The Best Laid Plans: Zelda I

The Best Laid Plans
The Legend of Zelda
Zelda x Ganondorf

Part I: Zelda
--

The Princess Zelda had not wished to sit idly by while she saw her Kingdom warp around her. She saw most everything, though few who knew her could guess it. She related it to being trapped atop a high tower, to look at all the ants below as they marched in formation. She could pick out the tiniest aberration, the smallest upset in the pattern. And she could see that one minute instant in time birth a wake of chaos.

However, in this case it was not a tiny disturbance but a large one. And it did not leave a wake but a coastcrusher wave behind it. It began with the death of her father, and instead of the throne passing to her it passed to Duke Lanaryu, who held the castle in his duchy. She could do little, and not for the first time she cursed her late father's will, and that he distrusted her for the mark on her hand when it allowed her to see so much more than he did.

Such was the nature of fear, she knew. And so, quietly, she began to work against it all.

Duke Lanaryu did his best to stem the tide of doubt but it still had festered. Alliances were made, as if they were the feudal states of old instead of the united Hyrule she was told was the greatest empire on the continent. Brigands began to wander the highways after dark, and mercenaries were hired where the knights would have patrolled the streets. Instead, the soldiers kept to the noble families, guarding them against the growing unrest.

Zelda knew she would not last much longer in the Castle, whether she would fall to obscurity or to a high bride price offered to a man not her father, she did not know.

Then, suddenly, the pieces of the game began to move. She did not expect that, and there was very little in the world she did not expect. Somehow, one of the Temples of the Sages was bright with power, and then dark again as it was sucked away. Another followed. And another. Courage was at work.

And Zelda did not know why. The cycle had not started, and there was no need for him. She had not even meant to find him yet, if at all. Why, she wondered, did he walk again as the Hero when there was no Evil to battle?

Chained by her duties as Princess, it was all she could do but to watch and wait, to slip about in silence and work as quietly as a moth's wing. Baron Lanaryu's strange behavior began to bother her. Why did he not act? Why did he not listen? The countryside gathered, screaming for closure, at his feet. And he would not heed them. Plague began to bloom in the peasantry, though it was brief and merciful. Then it raged in the nobility, where ladies and lords alike began to succumb to it.

Zelda focused her mind on these closer affairs, for she could do nothing about the Temples while she was confined in the castle. She had to be cautious-- she was being watched, she was sure of that. And perhaps not just by the unforgiving eyes of the court. Six temples were freed, and silenced. That was all of them. And so she waited for what that news would bring.

But she did not wait on the account of the Duke. After a month of worrying and investigating, she finally managed to get to the dinner meal before the maids cleaned up the mess. Of course, she had done this by setting a fire in the east wing among the hay, and wafting the smoke through the corridors so that everyone would pour out of the hall. But the treachery, in her mind, was well worth it.

She took the Duke's set place and chalice, careful not to disturb what was left upon them, and retreated into the emptiest hall, the Throne Room where not even one guard was left under the threat of fire. No one would bother there until the smoke was clear. And thus, she gathered a simple spell and cast it upon the plate to detect poisons. The court suspected the plague's rise in the Duke, but Zelda was not so blind.

Zelda did not want to be right, but she was. All around the pewter goblet was the evidence of a strong toxin, though Zelda could not guess the origin. She smelled the wine left inside, but found nothing. From the effect, she could guess it was some sort of depressive addling venom. But beyond that, she did not have the knowledge to discern the exact source nor a cure.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flood of magic through her shard of Triforce. It reminded her of a heavy bag slipping through a man's fingers, as if it couldn't be hidden or held close any more. But as the wave fell upon her, she could taste the unique signature it bore, that undercurrent of creeping darkness that she knew from so many times before. She knew who it was, but it was wrong-- too early, much too early. He would never, and not this way...

The heavy locked doors of the throne room blasted open, the thick bolts holding them in shattered instantly. Zelda dropped the chalice, the plate, and they clattered down the dais. It was then she saw him, the mass of him, walking forward to her. All darkness and power, eyes of a blackened eagle-- a solid wall of advancing fear. So this was it, she thought. This was the shadow that was washing over her kingdom, the Duke's lethargy, the Temple's silence. Zelda knew what came next. All too well. And she gathered as much magic as she could in her hand; she would have to be quick. That was her only strength against him, sheer speed and surprise. He would not expect it, not when it was this early.

"Zelda," he said. Then he collapsed, not bonelessly but from the top down. His eyes rolled up in his head, his shoulders slumped, and like a felled beast he crashed to the cold stone floor. For once, Zelda did not know what to do.

Slowly, for safety was uncertain, she lifted her skirts and went to the fallen man, standing over him. What to do? She stooped, and he was prone and still. Hesitatingly she dared to touch him. Nothing terrible happened: merely the feel of cold metal beneath her silken gloves. This bolstered her nerve, and she mustered the strength to turn him over a little, as much as she could manage.

He still breathed and was warm. He was hot, in fact, blazing like a man in fever. And so she chanced a question.

"You are Ganondorf?"

He said nothing, but his head gave a small, sharp incline. A nod, all he could do. A million other questions, mostly consisting of why and how and what sprung to her lips, but she tamped them down. Not with the man in such a state. Funny, she thought. He hardly seemed such a horror when he was like this. Huge, yes. Intimidating, yes. But with the eyes closed, without the warnings of her memory whispering to her, she realized that a stranger had just clawed his way to her and collapsed nearly in her arms. She was that important to him at the moment? Zelda noticed in his fist he had drawn his cape away from his back, around his side. As his arm grew more limp, she heaved it away.

"Dear Goddesses."

There, nearly stretching up the height of his flank was an enormous white wound that ripped him thigh to breast. It glowed faintly, and the torrent of blood he had tracked through the hall was pale, not red. She had heard tales of weapons that struck the soul and essence as well as the body. This was the Master Sword's work.

"What in hell happened?" he asked, though she knew he would never be able to answer. He was fading quickly, and for some reason a dread in her stomach knotted tight. Too soon, she thought, it was all falling too fast, why was he dying, he had not gathered strength, not moved yet-- why had this happened?

She barely even knew she had made a decision when she gave him a potent dose of healing magic, but as she did so she realized she had picked a side. Letting him die now would upset things, she justified. But really, seeing this made her heart burn, slither uncomfortably in her breast. This was wrong, and bad. She couldn't explain herself, but that was the way of moral things. Wrong was just wrong. This should not have been. This was wrong.

He yelled, body rejecting it. Zelda just bore down even harder until she ground at least a little mending into his heart, though she tried to turn her mind away from the technicalities. Traditionally, her brand of enchantment was used to kill and seal him. It was more similar to the wound than his own sorcery. But as he was he held stable, breathing gently. Almost not breathing at all.

"My Lady?"

Zelda looked up to see at least ten footmen on the cusp of the throne room. Their swords were drawn.

Then she realized what it must have looked like. The fire in the east wing to cover her actions. The plate and cup covered in poison that they would discover, and here with an unknown man in her arms that she had described to the guards and warned them against time and time again in anticipation.

Oh Gods.

"Your Highness. By the order of Knights, I place you under arrest for treason."

There was no point in explaining.

"You'll do no such thing."

Then, a struggle to clear her mind before the first blow fell. A flash of light. And suddenly, she was as far as she could move herself, over a hill in Hyrule Field. The Dark Lord she still clutched in her hands, white stain beginning to bleed into the ground instead of all over polished marble.

It was completely quiet.

Zelda barely knew what to do. He was much too heavy to lift, and she had to move. To be found was to die. She could fight, but that would only worsen things. There was only one option to her. Escape.

Like an animal, she thought. Escape or die. The strain of moving him was too great, however. Her magic needed rest, time to recover. And so she did something she swore she would never do.

Zelda prayed that help would come. From her childhood, she had told herself time and time again she was the only one who could aid  herself. She was alone, with the Gods' power in her, and destined to be. But in that moment, she could not think of what to do. And so, almost trapped under the huge man, she sat and begged.

–

It was hours in the dust before the Princess Zelda heard hooves. Hazily, she woke. Her legs had fallen asleep, and with a bit of horror, she felt Ganondorf growing cold in her grasp. In panic she forced a little more strength into him, and he cried out as he had before. He took it easier a second time, and as if he had downed spirits his skin grew healthwarm to the touch, instead of the bright fever he had displayed before.

Hooves, Zelda thought. Not upon the road in the distance. Over grass and dirt, behind her, up the hill. A gallop, with four beats. A long-legged stride, with heavy footfalls. A very large horse, shod. Initially, she feared it was a knight coming to claim her. But as it neared the pace quickened in a way that a rider usually did not manage, a freedom of movement that did not sound like it was encumbered.

Wearily, she laid his head to rest upon the thick grass and rose to see who could have come for her. She was met with a flailing horseshoe that she barely manage to dodge. A hair closer and she would have lost her face. The horse shrieked, snorting in an uncharacteristic frenzy. Its coat was blacker than black, unwashed by the sun. Yet the mane and tail were bleached pale, burning red like embers and licks of flame. It bore tack and bridle, and the frothing maw champed in harness. Curiously, she saw, there was no metal bit in its mouth.

From the infernal eyes and hell-driven will, she could guess well who this steed belonged to.

"Please!" She yelped. "Please, I am a friend!"

The horse was unconvinced, merely standing over its fallen master. It snorted sparks and smoke, glaring hatefully. Zelda was unconvinced of her own words, as well. But if Ganondorf was a target, no one was safe, and to abandon him would mean losing a piece of the Triforce to the rogue Master Sword wielder. Whoever that was.

It was nothing close to a plan. But at the moment, the short term was of the utmost importance. When she and Power were safe, then it would be time for thoughts of tomorrow and the days after.

"I am a friend. I swear it," Zelda whispered. "Shh. Be calm. Please, be calm."

And, she prayed what got her by with the hunting horses in the stables would pass her with this one. As it quieted it remained jumpy, but Zelda moved slowly, with deliberate and overt movements. It stared.

"It's all right," she said to it, hoping her voice could soothe. "It's just me. I'm a friend. I helped your master. Shh. That's right..."

Her fingers trembled, but reached for the reins. Quickly, she looked beneath the beast and nodded.

"All right, big lady," she said to it-- her, the horse was female-- "It's going to be okay. Shh. May I touch you...?"

The horse was as still as a statue, staring at her with frightened eyes in a way no horse should have. Slowly, Zelda reached to it, and carefully placed her palm against the beast's face. The mare did nothing, so Zelda chanced to pat it gently. Even through her gloves she could feel the soft, velvety nose, familiar to her. And, also, magic.

"You are not a horse," she said with a bit of wonder. "Even if you take the shape and heart of one. You are one of the Dark Lord's breed of vassals," she said quietly. "You think and see."

The mare blew into her fingertips, calming. It could not speak, but seemed to comprehend.

"I can command you. You understand tongues," Zelda said, but then flushed. "Oh. I must have sounded foolish, trying to baby you like an unruly foal."

She looked at Zelda, breathing a rattling sigh, flicking her ears. It was a wordless sign, but Zelda took it as a good one. Closer she moved, until she couldn't resist it. She curled her arms around the enormous black neck and restrained tears that she knew had no place in her position. She smelled musk and dust, and it comforted her. "Your master is very sick," she said. "He was wounded. We need to get him someplace safe."

The hellmare understood perfectly, and immediately pulled away to kneel down by her master's side. The beast looked at Zelda deliberately, pausing to nudge the man's face and stare back at the princess again. Zelda did know what she had to do, and gathered magic to at least lift him a little. She was still depleted, weak. But eventually, he was slung over the hindquarters of the beast, and after an apology, secured with a line she found in a saddlebag. She stood back, dirtied from her handiwork, and thanked the horse.

"I guess if you can understand, I need to ask," she muttered. "Horse, may I ride you?"

She looked at Zelda as if she was a bit dim.

"I'm sorry. I don't usually have to ask, but you seem to have a say in the matter."

The mare broadsided Zelda with her wide back, a clear signal to get on. Zelda stared up at the high perch in dismay and gathered her skirts. When that did not work, she performed a weak severing spell and cut most of the fabric off and stuffed it beneath Ganondorf's head as a pillow. Then she pulled down the leathers and nearly had to leap to get on top. Thankfully, the mare did not figit. Even then it was a few seconds while she had to adjust the stirrups-- Ganondorf had enormously longer legs than she did.

Quickly, she was beginning to think that heroics were a very bothersome production.

Finally she sat in the saddle of the biggest horse she had ever been on. She felt like a child, but also breathtakingly tall she was so far off the ground.

"We'll go to the edge of the forest. Soldiers don't dare go inside."

And with that and the smallest cue of her heels, the beast was off at a startling speed. Zelda had to grab the flying mane to steady herself, so sure was she of falling. But after a few seconds the long, rolling canter was smoother to her and the ups and downs no longer bounced her in her saddle. She had never ridden a horse that did not need to be urged constantly, her mind was free of the task of keeping on the beast.

It did feel a little like flying. Ganondorf groaned behind her, snapped her out of the fantasy. Later, when she stood beneath the boughs of the trees she propped him up against his mare, who lay for them both.

And the long and difficult process of healing began.

–

It was three days before the wound finally healed over. Three long days of toil, labor, and exhaustion. His condition had been worsened by being moved over land, and he had lost a tremendous amount of blood. Other smaller wounds riddled him. She had found a whole arrowhead imbedded in his shoulder, for one.  

Still, he healed remarkably quickly. Unnaturally so. Even with repeated exposure to a magic that pained him, he healed. She could not help it; it was all she had. But despite that, on the end of the third day his muscles clenched, and he groaned. Zelda, who had nothing to do but watch for pursuers and study his condition, noticed immediately. He gasped. He inched upright, and finally opened hazy eyes. The first thing he did was hold out his arms to see the bandages. Then, he winced at the light, and finally, turned to focus on her face.

"I don't understand," he said flatly.

"Neither do I," Zelda admitted. "Careful. You'll open those again. At your rate, one more day of rest."

"No," he said increasingly angry. "What have you done? You... It's too soon..."

Zelda stared down at him. "I know. I have done nothing. I didn't even know you were around before you barged into things in the most untimely fashion."

"Do not lie to me!" he snarled, beginning to stagger up. "I know your work! Do you take me for a fool?"

"Don't ruin your bandages!" she hissed. "I spent a long time patching you up!" She pointed to his armor piled neatly against a tree, and then to her discarded skirts draped over him as a blanket. Ganondorf looked, stared back at her, and collapsed, grumbling.

"Your whelp is moving," Ganondorf said. "Who else do you think could do this to me? My full power is not yet returned. He struck as I gathered strength, with the full backing of the Sages' seals and the Master Sword. I barely escaped. I meant to kill you for your treachery."

Zelda looked down at him. "With those wounds, I can't see you doing much of anything. You would have died twice over if not for me. He'd almost gutted you like a fish."

"I had no warning, and no weapon. Striking me in my sleep is unforgivable. At least I singed the brat a little for his trouble," Ganondorf spat. "What is your game this time, Zelda? Why have you smuggled me out here? Not as sport for your heroic assassin, I hope."

"I have never even met the Hero," Zelda said. "I was hoping you could answer my questions. It really is too soon for heroes, much less for you to die as much as I would love the world rid of you. I know the turmoil disturbing the proper order of things will bring about. You haven't... done anything yet."

Her eyes narrowed. "That I know of."

"I assure you, all of my actions as of late have been strictly benign."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Despite being as wounded as he was, a glitter flashed behind the depths of his eyes, a bit of the foulness in his mood evaporating from his sneer. His horse arched her head down to rest in his lap in an eerily unhorselike way, and he stroked the soft nose thoughtfully. "And of your so-called record as a standard of virtue, Princess? What causes you to bandage up your greatest foe, tear your skirts, and steal away from the castle?" He smiled faintly. "One would think you were trying to kidnap yourself this time."

"I don't recall you being so talkative."

"I don't recall much at all," Ganondorf countered. "Other than what I know I shall do, and who I was in the  long-distant past. And that you have what I want. So save your speeches of meaningless details-- I am myself, and you are a master at digressing from the point."

He gestured to a patch of moss. "Sit, and assure me of your virtue, or lack thereof. I would have news of my kingdom."

Zelda felt as if a demon was inviting her to dance. She turned away. "It is not your kingdom."

"It will be. Sit, or run off into the woods like a scared little girl. I see that in your mind, both options are a loss. Mine, I assure you, is the lesser."

And despite herself, she sat, stiffly and coldly. "Very well. What do you want to know, King of Evil?"

But no matter what he said, she did not tell him everything.

–

His recovery afterward was remarkable. He spoke as if he had never been wounded, and after one night's rest when Zelda let him up beneath the bandages there were not even scars of the attack, save one long, slender line that trailed up his side. He revealed it slowly, as if he himself had to check that he was unhurt as he did so. As the man unwrapped the bindings, Zelda blushed and turned her back. It was not appropriate to watch him dress, she concluded. Especially because the tiny flash she had caught before she closed her eyes was a little more than inappropriately fascinating. Yes, she had bandaged him before. But the details of things were relatively unimportant when he had been bleeding in torrents all over her.

She cleared her mind of it. Of course he was strong-- he was meant to crush the Hero. No frail man would do. And that his terrible, ageless face didn't matter-- he was as ancient as she was, no matter how he seemed to be at this one instant. In her mind she pictured a shriveled old evil toad, and that worked to cancel out what she had seen quite well.

"And now comes the key question. What will you do now?" he asked her mildly, looking out from the forest trunks to the veiled sunlight of the outside. Zelda did not catch his body language, not daring to look at him yet. He adjusted his armor yet again. "You cannot survive here. You know this."

Zelda looked at him in distrust. "I could ask you the same question," she said.

"That seems to happen frequently," Ganondorf retorted. "I believe it means you wish to redirect the conversation, and it will not work this time. Your Hero is looking for you, probably."

"I've told you. He's not mine."

"I don't care," he said dismissively. "Your subjects count you a traitor to your father's last will. Or so you say. Where will you go, bearer of Wisdom? To some tower far away, to abandon your people?"

The princess looked down at herself. She had lost her bloody gloves, and her fingernails were caked with dirt. Her skirts had been ripped apart, until only what was modest was left covered. Any remaining jewelry was cracked or chipped or dented. She had let fall her circlet in the ride days ago. All powder had flaked off of her. Somehow, she doubted this was what most Heroes had in mind for a rescue.

"I don't know. He's out there, and he's coming for you. I don't know what side he's on. He might not even be on mine. I will have to survive until I know."

Ganondorf, behind her, snorted. "You have not eaten for a whole day. Possibly longer."

"I don't want to take my eyes off you."

A heavy hand closed around her shoulder, and Zelda jumped. She was not sure if he had even finished putting on his leathers and armor, and he had made not a sound as he closed the distance."Ever the flatterer," he said, turning her to face him. That crooked smile again, that made her tremble despite all warnings. "No, I think I know a deserving fate."

She screamed as he scooped her up with one arm. She attempted to punch him in the face, but she missed by a mile and in a dizzying spin she was carried nearly across the clearing. "What are you doing?!" she yelled. "Don't touch me!"

Before she could gather magic, he slapped her hands and broke her concentration. His aura was too strong for her sorcery at such close quarters, and she swore at being caught off-guard when she had made such a point to watch his every motion. Perhaps if she had been less concerned with propriety, her back would not have been turned... either way, he won, she realized. He hoisted her atop his mare, studied what she had done to his stirrups and laughed. Zelda looked down at him icily as he fixed them.

"There's no stopping you, is there?" she asked.

"If you truly wanted me to be stopped, you would be fighting me a bit harder than this. As it is, you're practically inviting me," said Ganondorf. "You know as well as I do that this is the best option."

"Kidnapping."

He smiled, and it was an awful smile. Zelda decided she hated it. "I don't understand why you're so upset. This was going to happen eventually. If the Hero's moved his timing up, I must be slacking." He paused. "And it is not kidnapping if it's willing. Do I hear you protesting?"

"You do now," Zelda hissed.

"Interesting. I never caught a 'no' a moment ago." He threw the reins over the beast's neck. "Think of it this way. I am spiriting you away from certain doom at the hands of the court."

Zelda scoffed. He must have thought he was ever the dashing rogue as he did so, too. She could taste the biting sarcasm, the sour tint of humor: some ploy to make him seem less monstrous, she figured. "A doom that's your faul--"

And in a smooth bound he swung over the enormous beast's back; his arms reached around her, taking hold of the reins in light contact. She could feel him to settle snugly up against her, his closeness all of a sudden nearly enveloping.

Oh, Zelda thought.

Oh.

Never mind. Evil ugly old toad, she told herself. And grudgingly, she resigned that he was right. She was safer this way. Even if she hated it. It was sort of like lurking in a monster den. Nothing would approach her for fear of the monster. A plan began to form in her mind. Maybe this could work. If he did not remember and she did... yes, maybe he would not be able to...

He prodded her, whispering in her ear. "So you shall come willingly, Princess?"

"Yes."

"Good."

As the edge of the forest broke into broad fields, Zelda found that his arms and his seat caged her in; she could hardly move. Only could she sway with the horse, grip the whipping mane, and feel the warmth of him pierce her ragged clothes. She struggled, realizing exactly what she had agreed to, in entirety. And now, as he closed in around her, her walls closed in, as well. As if to confirm her suspicions, he looked down, and she saw perhaps the most petrifying eyes she could have imagined.

It would not have mattered either way," he said.

–

From the pauses in travel and the times she woke upon the back of that horse, Zelda estimated the entire journey took about four days, which it should not have by all rights. However, most means of figuring did not account for a demon steed able to cover ground without tire, with hooves that tore the distance under them faster than even her swiftest riders. The times they stopped were for brief meals of travel fare, Zelda barely able to enjoy it for the horrid aching burn of her thighs where the riding was wearing her down. If Ganondorf felt discomfort from the forced flight, he did not show it.

He spoke little, deceptively little based on the odd talkativeness he had displayed earlier. His face was serious, grim. Perhaps she was right that the Master Sword wielder was on their trail, for Ganondorf did all he could to deceive an unknown follower. They cut across rough country, avoided roads, and so made their way mile after hellish mile.

Also, Zelda thought, it was likely every soldier from the fields to the lake was searching for her-- the treasonous princess.

Zelda was skeptical as the moorlands gave way to parched rocks. The stones submitted to sands, which deepened into drifts that shifted with the scouring wind, higher and higher. The hooves of the hellsteed did not touch the ground, merely ran over the sand and so they passed as ghosts, without a trace.

Eventually they cleared a wide gap, a fissure in the earth that could have stretched down to the center of the world.

"A mighty river once ran through this canyon," Ganondorf said suddenly, distantly. "And there was a time when the desert did not sprawl beyond the water's reach."

Zelda shivered. The rocks had been worn by the whipping air, and even then the breeze howled chill in the night. It sounded like tormented souls. Even if he claimed he did not recall much about himself other than a history and a mission and a soul, it was clear he still grasped strong, strong memories. Perhaps more than he knew he had.

"Whatever marginal blessings this land once possessed, they are fully gone now. The desert is a waste, as you know it to be. Once there were rains, every so often. And briefly, after the rains, there were wildflowers. Now there is nothing."

"I'm sorry, I can't imagine," said Zelda quietly, trying to picture what he spoke of so solemnly.

Ganondorf was silent for a long time after that, and Zelda did not press the matter, only heeding the cold ice that was winding down the back of her neck. But after they stood on higher ground, looking to the rock basin, he dropped the reins slightly and shifted to let her see.

"Imagine the hollows full, and a dead carpet that would green only when that water appeared. And a blanket of red bloom for one day only after, before they shriveled and were lost to the sun."

"Why do you tell me this?"

"Because out of all of your people, you might remember," Ganondorf said, a hint of anger in his voice. "See the hills, as they were."

And in wonder, out of the depths of her mind she could glimpse the land under the sun instead of cold, biting moon: stretching sky bright and blue with that field of deep crimson beneath her. "I see them," she said breathlessly, half her voice sticking in her throat. "Have I been there before?"

"I am not sure," Ganondorf said, muttering to himself, turning his mare to the way before them. "I might have killed you here once."

Zelda swallowed something she knew was dread, felt a chill up her spine. So she really had been stepping on her own grave; that explained it. He continued, not stopping until he reached the final dune and cleared it. Before her loomed a dark-windowed fortress hewn out of the brown mesa it sprawled from. She could barely see it; merely a black shadow against the night, blotting out the stars on the horizon.

That was the only merit of this desert. When the evening air was chill as the grave, the sky overhead swirled with constellations and heavenly clouds. But it all served as a backdrop to the towering structure before her.

"Look well, Princess," he said coldly. "This is your prison, for now. You will not see it from this angle again."

"Your people lived here," Zelda said quietly.

His grip on the reins tightened. "Once upon a time."

–

The halls were dark and dusty, with sand that gathered in corners and shadows that lingered there, too. Zelda walked her new, half-willing jail with a bleak curiosity. Over the doorways were trophies of conquest, though animal skulls and drapes of cloth were mouldered and eaten by years and moths. Rusted-out iron bars dominated one stone building; once, it had been some sort of prison. But overall, Zelda drew a feeling of loneliness from her new place. She could speak to those walls, and the sound would echo and she would wonder if the fortress was ever meant to bear an echo at all.

Quite a few monsters roamed the halls with her, though they paid her no mind. A pair of hesitant lizalfos left meals at her designated door, and once she chanced to speak to them. They fled in fear, as if they thought she had opened her door to smite them.

The times she meant to sneak out and steal away from the fortress, she was halted by whippings of storm and sand that kicked up only when she meant to leave. Even moving herself with magic proved futile: it was much too far to any landmark she could ever reach. Each time she tried, Zelda would end right back where she started, with an amused Ganondorf standing by to chide her for being reckless. In theory, he said, it was to keep the Hero away. It was impossible for a normal horse to traverse the dunes-- if the Gerudo's steeds were able in days long past the road had grown worlds harsher to the point of impassibility. A man on foot would lose his way, or choke on the sandstorm and perish. Even if the rogue Master Sword wielder learned of their location, they were beyond his reach. Even flying things that did not bare his goodwill would yield to the blade-sharp dust as it blew.

For all of this, Zelda was thankful. She felt selfish, but she seemed to be safe. The castle was far away, the accusations that surely were hurled against her were far away, the unguided Hero and the worries that brought were far away as well. Here, although she was kept, she was also kept safe. In the most base sense, she had survived and ran to live another day, and in that she was relieved.

But there was always a looming cloud on the horizon. The brief encounters with Ganondorf as he went about his business. She had willingly chosen this trap, in a manner of speaking, but still the long-term danger was there. In the short term, she was safe. But she was confined as she ever was, she grew to know a fear that was so, so familiar. She did not know what this half-knowing Ganondorf would do with her. Some lives when the Triforce was active and quick to manifest he killed her, capturing Wisdom as it fled. In others he kept her when it would not be budged. In still others Wisdom fled her when the three gathered, and he merely had to hold her until that moment, and then deprive it of a host to flee back to should he fail.

It was a small comfort that in this iteration, he did not seem as mad as he sometimes was. Sanity, she figured, was a strength. If his actions were governed by reason, then he could be manipulated with cause and effect as any other man could be. All she had to figure out, then, was what she wanted to do with him and how to do it. Before Ganondorf made his move, of course.

In essence, the entire plan.

"You surprise me," said Ganondorf. He had taken to striding suddenly into her quarters without warning, an alarming habit that had Zelda changing clothes quickly in fear of being caught indecent. He dropped a small scrap of linen cloth onto the table there. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to wrestle this away from the one you gave it to?"

Upon the scrap was stitched in red and blue, 'Good Lizard' in lettering that appeared in any one of her samplers back at the castle. In truth, she despised embroidery, but it was a tactical pick of a pastime. It was an idle-looking craft, and all would think her oblivious to the world around her. It was pathetically easy to catch conversations not meant for her ears when so-called wise lords were convinced that she was merely pretty scenery.

"She was a good lizard," Zelda said flatly. "She brought me drink when I asked politely, and did not fear me as the others did. It's proper to reward good behavior."

"Not," he said hotly, "when that reward compromises my entire army!"

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "Yes? Go on."

"I come back to see every single damned reptile fighting over this, and you call it a reward?" he said, with a smoldering restraint. "I had to kill five to end the riot."

"Was she, that light green one with the horns, one of them?" Zelda asked nonchalantly. At his deep scowl she shrugged lightly, turning a page in her book. "That's a pity."

He snatched the book out of her hands and shut it loudly. Zelda looked at him disapprovingly.

"Look me in the eye when you have an audience with me, princess-- and don't feign innocence," he growled. "You wanted one, performing such a trick."

Zelda straightened her skirts and did so, sighing. "So I did, and now I have one," she said. "Very well. I'll get to the point. What news is there of Hyrule?"

The King of Evil stared at her. She stared back. "You cause a riot to get news," he said flatly. "Somehow, I'm reconsidering letting you walk free."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"That remains to be seen."

Aha, thought Zelda. He wasn't leaving. He was staying to banter. She could have missed it; he masked it behind being generally infuriating. But it seemed, she thought, he had some kind of ulterior motive in coming to her door, not simply to protest her behavior. If he wanted to he could have forbade a repeat and left. Yet he remained to swap pointed remarks. Perhaps she had not said yet what he wanted her to say, or he was trying to extract additional information from her.

"If you will not freely give me news, then I have a proposal for you, Evil One," she said calmly. "If you would entertain me for a little while longer."

He tried to dim them, but his eyes glowed with interest. As clever as he was, he was rather bad at masking his true self if one knew what to look for. He held himself on a tight leash as if he was a ravenous hound, she thought, and although the man could keep back the desperate tugging and lunging, he could not restrain snapping jaws and hungry howls.

Somewhere in her mind, she wondered what it would be like if he ever let slip his own lead. Then she wondered if she was so tired to think in metaphors that even she didn't quite grasp.

"Let me review the situation as I see it," said Zelda. "Courage is moving, but not for Hyrule. We don't know its motivations or its goals, other than it has attacked you before, and likely seeks to again if it knows you are still alive. Hyrule is under the care of Baron Lanaryu, who knows just about as much about the workings of a kingdom as he does the finer points of basket-weaving-- which is to say, none. A plague rages within the court. I am in exile from my kingdom; it is likely I am wanted for treason, to face a sensationalized dummy trial and subsequent execution."

Ganondorf raised an eyebrow. "I know of all of this."

"I might be persuaded to tell you what you may not know," she tempted. Yes, he did respond to that. Strongly, no matter how he tried to hide it. Through discipline and her conditioned art of observation she could clearly see his muscles tense, dark face flush ever-so-slightly as the blood sped through his veins. His pulse quickened in excitement.

I know his one weakness, Zelda thought.

"Then speak," he said harshly, cloaking his interest in a superficial mask of anger. "And quickly."

His one weakness is that which he does not have, or does not know, or cannot touch. He wants it. And so long as I have something he wants, and I always will, I will wield great sway over him.

Zelda looked up at the fearsome beast of a man, that rapturous fact that she held his perfect torture in her hands bolstering her nerve a thousandfold. And she was happy to see that as she smiled his facade faltered the tiniest bit, as if he was not accustomed to any sort of resistance.

"I do not think I will. As I said, I have a proposal," said Zelda. "It would hardly be fair for me to give, yet receive nothing in return. I suggest an equal trade."

For she knew he had not left the desert fortress, and his long lulls of mediation did not gift him with Far Sight as her dreams were fabled to. He had seen nothing more than what his eyes had glimpsed, and been told no more than what she had told him. And what she had told him left her with much left behind to bargain with. His only eyes were the eyes of his subjects that he sent out over the world, and even if it was a fallible source anything was better than nothing.

"State your terms, princess," Ganondorf said.

"I will receive my news," she said calmly. "And you will receive yours."

"What have you withheld?"

Zelda looked at him as if he was a fool. "I will tell you, if you give me your word to repay me in turn now and fully."

He looked irritated, but he hid it well. "You have my word, Princess. Though how much it is worth to you, I can't say."

"What it's worth doesn't matter. It's the only price I can afford; it's not as if I have much else to bargain with in return. You've been civil thus far," said Zelda carefully. "I can only trust that you will not impugn your... honor."

Another fault for her to exploit. His pride.

"Then get on with it."

"Very well," she sighed. "You know I am wanted for treason on a false assumption."

Ganondorf looked at her, slightly disappointed. "Found with the notorious King of Evil in your arms? Never."

"If the notorious King of Evil hadn't blundered into my castle with a gaping holy wound, it would have had nothing to do with him, or I never would have been found at all. And as that's not so, my predicament this time is entirely his fault. But I was investigating a treason long before you were tangled with things, Dark One."

She paused to gauge his reaction, for she had been uncommonly coarse with him and any lord of the court would have taken great offense. Yet he did not react to the biting words; in fact, she could see an unconscious muscle in his face loosen. Veiled amusement? It disturbed her.

"I cleared the dining hall that day myself, and I found on Baron Lanaryu's cup some venom I can't identify. Whatever it is, it had likely been applied for a long time, and had not been killing him," finished Zelda. "I had suspected the plague, but there is a villain amidst the court and my good cousin the Baron has been taking poison for weeks. The fairest guess I have is that it is some sort of drug, dosed to muddle his reasoning. He has seemed dreamy and unconcerned with the world lately, and this would be the cause."

Ganondorf was silent, contemplating the new information with a grave face for a heavy pause. When he spoke, it was with gravity. "This is news indeed. There is another working against us, and not your Hero. It is not possible the boy could have done this, no matter how mad, how twisted, or how deceived. This is my news to you, so listen well."

He cleared his throat, and it pushed back a few of the dry, tired scratches in his voice. With a little wonder, Zelda heard more fullness in his words as he spoke, the strangest black confection she had ever heard: for it did not seem to be played in deception. Whatever his motivations, the effect was strangely pleasant and she felt herself feeling it was not so much an act as that he had simply never heard his truest tone of voice before and she sampled at least a suggestion of it then.

"For one, at the time you describe this happening, I was surprised out of a sleep by the hero's appearance. If not for magic, I never could have pulled armor onto me before his strike hit. Understand that for me superficial wounds are more a bother than a danger; I have learned the arts of holding them closed with magic, or repelling them outright. I did not predict that the hit would be with the Master Sword so early in the game. Or that it would have the complete strength of the Sage's Light Seal behind it."

"I noticed. You bled for days. It's a miracle you lived, even with my attempts at healing," said Zelda.

She cringed. Were the man's eyes... soft for a moment?

"Whatever you did, you have my thanks," he said gravely. "Even if this damned wound still pains me."

"It does?" Zelda asked, confused. "It shouldn't. I lifted the Sage's mark on you. It's nothing more than a scar."

Ganondorf stared at her and immediately she closed her mouth, pins and needles pricking her heart. She did not know how he did it, but his gaze killed her words. Vaguely, she felt like a quibbling child, which was unpleasant when one possessed the Wisdom of the Gods. Though in her mind, she wondered how difficult it was for him to thank her: his words were strangled and halting and even forced, but the tone was oddly natural.

"It is beside the point," he said sharply. "The situation, it seems, is plain. There are two parties at work, one with the Master Sword, another working within your politic. Likely they work together."

Zelda, despite herself, found that she agreed. "If they want the throne, it would be easiest to take it through Lanaryu. And once ruling as King, then it would be true that in the big picture you would be the biggest obstacle. Though how..."

"Therein lies what is disturbing about this predicament," continued Ganondorf. "To seek me out, this force does know of us and our part in this game. Courage is likely being used as a weapon by this other party. Once I am gone, the next threat will be eliminated." His eyes flicked, gaze passing over her briefly before setting to look her squarely as he had before. "Namely, you, the true heir to the throne."

"I would not jump to conclusions and say I face a mastermind, Dark One," Zelda said. "My discovery, and your barging into the throne room-- they both were accidents in the eyes of anybody wanting the crown. No one could possibly have foreseen or planned my arrest. This illusion of triumph is just rotten luck on my part."

The Dark Lord's grin stretched wide. "I wonder," he said, standing suddenly. "Even worse for you, then-- for if he did not concoct this happy mistake, another scheme was likely laid out to dispose of you. I can hardly expect even the most foolish lord would leave more than half of his triumph lying on the floor, forgotten."

His voice crawled in her guts. "It seems you owe me your life, then," said Ganondorf. "For if I had not, as you claim, blundered into your halls, it is likely today would have seen you a dead woman."

"That is too bold."

"But probable," replied Ganondorf.

Zelda looked at him, and wondered exactly what she had gotten out of this bargain. It was very simple, a part of her thought. You have gotten cheated.

"I think that is all I wish to say to you. Good-day, Evil One."

"Good-day, Princess. This was very pleasant," said he, and she could imagine beastly teeth sinking into her, tasting her flesh. "It is a rare jewel, to find you civil."

"Good-day."

He smiled, and it was terrible.