Chapter Text
“What’s with the glum face, Princess? Gimmie a big smile!”
“That boy is a living reminder of her own failures.”
“I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon.”
“Can you hear it yet… hero?”
“The princess is a strong personality - so strong she can’t quite see the range for the peaks.”
“It seems I’m the only one with a mind of my own.”
“It’s unfortunate. She’s put in more than enough time.”
“As brave as you are, that does not make you immortal.”
“The princess can only thrive out here… in the wild.”
“We just don’t seem to know much about what we’ll be up against.”
“I wonder then, would you have chosen a different path?”
“You are the heir to a throne of nothing.”
“Please just tell me… what is it? What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s always a chance that the next moment will change everything.”
“I may not be of much use on the battlefield, but there must… there must be something I can do to help!”
“I’ve tried, and I’ve failed them all. I’ve left them all to die.”
“His life is now in your hands.”
“There is still something I must do.”
---
Zelda stared into the jaws of the beast, hand outstretched. The light pouring fourth from the golden triangles filled her vision. The jaws snapped shut.
---
Zelda came to, feeling vague and disconnected, like in a dream. The abstract space around her was barely lit. She wasn’t at the castle anymore. Or perhaps she was? She couldn’t tell. She looked down at her hand to see her Triforce mark brightly glowing. It hurt a little, a dull pain. She assessed her surroundings – she was floating in a dark space that beat flashes of red light all around every few moments, like the inside of a beating heart. The air was thick and stale.
Adjusting to the darkness, her eyes fell upon a figure in the distance. Curious, she willed herself over to the dark figure somehow, not entirely walking, mostly floating. This figure had its back turned, and she struggled to see detail in the dark, but he was tall and bulky, double the height of her delicate frame. The next flash of dull light revealed red hair, and the figure turned to look over his shoulder, revealing a long pointed nose and intensely staring eyes that inspired great uneasiness in Zelda’s stomach.
In a single moment, the figure spun around and grabbed Zelda by the neck, thrusting her upward with violent intent. The beats of light quickened their pace, and so did Zelda’s panicked heartbeat. She struggled to breathe.
The figure spoke in a deep growling voice.
“You.”
Zelda tried to use her sealing power, but it didn’t work. Her hand burned more as she resisted the figure’s rough fist around her neck. It was almost as if the sealing power was preoccupied with something else.
Curiously, the figure suddenly dropped her and looked down, opening and closing his fists in frustration.
“Is this just another part of my punishment,” the deep voice lamented, “seeing ghosts and visions I can never defeat?”
Zelda backed away, and boldly answered him.
“I’m not a ghost. At least I don’t believe I am.”
The man looked down accusingly at Zelda.
“Your words prove nothing either way, princess.”
“Who are you?”
The figure was taken aback.
“You do not recognise me, Princess Zelda? I am your demise, destined to burn this accursed Hyrule to nothing, and create a new world from the ashes. A world where I can finally be rid of YOU.”
“Are… you the Calamity?”
“That is but one of my many names,” he said proudly, “I am King Ganondorf Dragmire.”
Zelda’s eyes widened, “I read about you in history books. That you were once a Gerudo man who sought to conquer Hyrule, but a knight and princess of ages past defeated you.”
“That is but a distant memory… of when I once walked Hyrule a free man.”
“And you are not free now?”
Ganondorf gestured to their dull surroundings.
“Don’t mock me, princess. Does this look like freedom to you?”
“I suppose not. Are you not the calamity that is wreaking havoc across the kingdom?”
“Perhaps I am. It’s hard to tell these days. Every so often I am hit with an intense feeling, like anger or pain. One of those times was just before you appeared.”
“So you truly have no idea what you’ve done?” Zelda’s chest felt heavy.
Ganondorf smiled triumphantly. “Well it sounds like it went well. Perhaps I’ll be free of this place soon.”
“You’re sick.”
He shrugged, “that is my curse, just as you are cursed.”
Zelda backed away further. “…What do you mean?”
He turned away from her. “It matters not.”
“There is nothing more we can do to each other except speak. Please…”
Ganondorf glanced over his broad shoulder. “Hmph.” He knew the girl would not stop harassing him until he gave in.
“You have suffered more than you can comprehend,” he finally answered,” we have all suffered together over the centuries. It’s rather poetic in its cruelty.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We are just playthings of the gods, princess. Pieces on a chessboard. I am the hand of Demise. You are the puppet of the goddess Hylia. Every princess who has come before you has been the same, and you are nothing special. There is only one path to gaining true free will.”
“…How?” Zelda asked, knowing she wouldn’t like the answer.
Ganondorf grinned. “Letting me win.”
“No! N-never! You’re insane.”
“And so are you, dear princess. Of course you could never let your kingdom fall, no matter the mental or physical cost to your own self. And I will be killed, tortured and spat on over and over unless I break the chain. Our hands are bound, Princess Zelda. In an endless stalemate.”
Zelda held out some small hope that this man behind the monster could be reasoned with.
“But… perhaps there is a way. I-if perhaps, we could work together?”
“Even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” he chuckled, “I can’t. It seems I am no longer in control of my own actions.”
“So…” she said quietly, “we are both trapped here.”
“Precisely.”
They were silent for a moment. Zelda was clutching at straws, desperate for answers she was never given growing up. Yet she was hesitant to hear them from the mouth of the beast. Terrified to even attempt to speak to him.
“My father always told me… the Goddess Hylia guides us, she is the image of all things good and just.”
“Ha, of course your noble king would say that. That narrative has been spoon-fed to your kingdom for thousands of years. If she cared so much, why would she throw her responsibilities onto the shoulders of mortal men, and let them die for her? This debate tires me.”
Zelda felt lost and hopeless. She slowly sank downwards and sat looking defeated. She didn’t want to believe a word out of the thing whose sole purpose was to make her life miserable. And yet, after all her dedicated praying, Hylia had stayed silent to her pleas for years. In order for her to answer, Zelda had to lose Hyrule, lose the Champions, lose her father, lose Link… did the Goddess really have her best interests at heart?
Ganondorf felt a small amount of amused pity. He had never talked at length like this to a Zelda before, and it was rather entertaining thus far. Something to keep him busy for a while. All of this information was probably too much for the young, weak princess to handle, and he delighted in watching her slowly break.
---
The two did not speak again for hours, or perhaps days, it was hard to tell. Until suddenly Ganondorf spoke up.
“Might I ask, where is your obedient little dog?”
“Who?”
“Your quiet little hero. He isn’t joining this lively party?”
“No he’s… I-I won’t tell you.”
“How sad that one so young must always fight in your stead. Do your dirty work. He will die because of you, you know. His blood is on your hands.”
“N-no! You’re just-“
She looked away in horrified contemplation. On her orders Link was put in the shrine of resurrection, but who knows if it actually worked? He was already at death’s door…what if… he’s never coming? What if-
“Just stop,” she spat, “why can’t you just stop this?”
“I told you, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“You haven’t even tried!”
“That’s because I don’t want to.”
“ARGH!”
In anger, Zelda tried to put as much of a gap between her and the beast. She tried going to the end of this place, meet a wall or something, but it just kept going. An endlessly inky void. Eventually she spotted Ganondorf on the horizon again.
“A feeble attempt, princess,” Ganondorf chuckled, “we are but stray thoughts in my mind; a vast and infinite space.”
Zelda turned her back to him again and kneeled down, closing her eyes. Perhaps she could practice the meditation techniques Impa taught her, to keep her mind away from Ganon’s gripping melancholy. She pictured Hyrule in her head: the sweeping fields of lush green, the sweet scent of the silent princess, the sounds of children laughing in the town square and minstrels playing music.
But all too soon the sound turned to screaming, and the fields lit up bright red in flames, the acrid stench of ash and blood, and the glowing blue eye… the eye…
Zelda snapped out of her trance to her heart beating a million miles a minute, her fists clenched so tight her nails cut into her skin, wet tears coating her cheeks. Ganondorf was staring over at her, an eyebrow raised.
“I thought meditation was supposed to be soothing,” he said, “I don’t think you’re doing it right. And could you stop that sobbing? It’s giving me a headache.”
Her crying became louder, and more uncontrollable. Ganondorf watched her slowly reach a catatonic state, then sighed and went over to Zelda’s side. He was rather surprised. He’d never seen a Zelda with this level of emotional instability. He should’ve expected this, he did drop the entire soul crushing truth of her existence on her. She flinched and shied away when she noticed he’d sat down beside her.
“There there,” Ganondorf said with dripping sarcasm.
He rolled his eyes as he got seated more comfortably beside her.
“Silence,” he boomed in his commanding voice.
Zelda fell quiet and tried desperately to wipe her tears away, taking frustrated glances at the brute whose idea of sympathy was non-existent.
“Breathe slower,” he said, “I’m not even sure if breathing is necessary in this place but it will help to stop your whining.”
“Why do you know so much about this?”
“I’ve had to deal with a lot of emotional women in my time.”
“You seem a bit emotional too sometimes.”
“I AM NOT!” Ganon snapped.
Zelda giggled a bit at the irony, and he gave her an icy stare.
He grumbled, “Well at least it shut up your sobbing.”
As quickly as he had sat down, Ganondorf got up and walked away. Zelda studied the Gerudo man as he distanced himself from the princess. There seemed to be more to him than meets the eye - that much she was certain of. So she tried a little bit of emotional manipulating of her own.
“Why don’t you want to escape? Surely being trapped in here isn’t worth it.”
Ganondorf brushed off her attempt quickly.
“I am used to it. I’ve been trapped in the Sacred Realm, the Twilight Realm, every other alternate realm, on the ocean floor, you name it. I’ve found that patience is key, and Demise will call me back to Hyrule when I’m needed. I need only wait a couple of millennia.”
“But what if… you didn’t have to wait? What if perhaps, you could be free now?”
Ganondorf laughed coldly.
“And how do you propose to accomplish that, o wise princess? Or are you making things up just to tempt me? It won’t work.”
“…I’m sure there’s a possibility. I just need time to think.”
“Go on then, think away, you have all the time in the world.”
Zelda stared into the distance, thoughts swimming. It was hard to think straight in this dreamlike space, with the ever present throbbing pain of her mark. Why was it in pain? How come that now she had finally gotten her powers, she didn’t have a clue how they worked? As time passed slowly, she gradually felt more and more fatigued. She supposed that her powers are keeping the Calamity at bay somehow, and it takes her effort and energy to be contained. There was no way to sleep in this realm, but sometimes she would drift off beyond thought for a while. Zelda wondered how Ganondorf could tolerate being cooped up in empty places like this for thousands of years.
Then, an idea wriggled into her head.
“Ganondorf?”
“What?”
“You said this place was inside your mind, correct?”
“Well as far as I’m aware, yes.”
“And you can sense what’s going on outside sometimes, yes?”
“I suppose so.”
“If you concentrated hard, do you think you could see outside?”
“Perhaps. But why should I do what you want?”
“Don’t you want to know what’s going on out there? Besides, there isn’t anything else to do.”
“Tch, fine. But only because I want to watch you squirm as I describe how much your people are suffering.”