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Sleep in a Bed

Summary:

The great (and very young) Dark King Ganondorf has been taken to the hero's peasant house in Kakariko village. He will not be played a fool by this trickster - this liar and shapeshifter and infiltrator - who obviously and definitely means to fight him to the death, and in no way wishes to protect him or provide him with a happy home!

Notes:

Ty for the positive response, everyone. Been having brain struggling lately and, I dunno, you never know who needs to hear that encouragement, and I guess today that was me.

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Link had a house in Kakariko village. This was where he said he was bringing Ganondorf the night he kidnapped—

No. Ganondorf would not use that word to refer to himself. The hero did not kidnap him. The Yiga Clan tower was, simply, not a suitable place to have their epic battle. It was overrun by interfering knights. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Link was supposed to defeat all his minions single-handedly first. There was nothing single-handed about the army sweeping in to take out the entire Yiga Clan at once.

Besides, “kid”-napping implied he was a “kid.” Yes, he was only nine years old right now, but he was technically also older than the ages. He was king of darkness, the mighty wielder of the corruption that would one day swallow Hyrule whole. One did not simply kidnap him. Not even the hero chosen by the Master Sword!

No, it was because the battle tonight had been no good, and they’d have to try again tomorrow.

Ganondorf wasn’t in the mood to do battle tonight, anyway. He was upset.

His tutor had fallen to his death, and probably everyone else in the tower was dead, and—it wasn’t like he liked them anyway—they were all expendable minions whose lives were at his disposal—yes, he knew that, though he’d never thought—not so suddenly—and they died without his permission—and he wasn’t happy about that.

What was he going to do?

He put it out of his mind when the legendary bird Voltaleo softly touched down in front of a pretty little moss-covered cottage.

Ganondorf had never seen so much green. Was that why the hero wore green? As camouflage in a place that was mostly green like this? Yes, that must be it. Ganondorf’s cleverness astounded even him sometimes!

Link dismounted the bird and took Ganondorf under the shoulders to set him down, too.

“Unhand me!” Ganondorf commanded the moment his feet touched the ground. Link let him go and held up his hands. Ganondorf scampered back a few steps and planted his fists on his hips in a dignified manner, lest the hero get any ideas about manhandling him more. “Let’s get one thing straight, hero! We may not be doing battle at this moment, but I am not your prisoner.”

Link looked confused. “Right. You’re not my prisoner. You’re under my protection. Was that unclear?”

Oh. Ganondorf cleared his throat. “I was just making sure you knew!”

That was probably enough to establish his authority. He ignored Link and reached out to put his fingers into the soft feathers on Voltaleo’s breast.

“Are you really Voltaleo?” he whispered to the bird.

The bird cooed, cocking its golden beak to one side to examine him.

“Gentle…!” Link whispered, and touched Ganondorf’s shoulder. “Gentle with her.”

Oh, Voltaleo was vai? Well, that made sense. All the greatest Gerudo heroes were.

“Don’t patronize Voltaleo!” Ganondorf snapped. “She’s a thousand times cooler than you! No, a hundred thousand!”

Voltaleo’s feathers puffed up with pride.

“I see,” Link muttered. “I didn’t know.”

“You’d better remember!” Ganondorf said. “Voltaleo, how come you let this guy ride you? Did he give you a Pulu fruit?”

Voltaleo bobbed her head and cooed again.

“Wow…! How did he do that?”

Voltaleo crooned an answer and lifted the crooks of her wings.

“I don’t understand, but,” Ganondorf said, “I guess the Rito found him worthy, huh? And he must have met the World Turtle and climbed to the cold highlands to find you.”

Link blinked at him in surprise.

“So I guess he’s not just some punk with a magic sword, huh?” Ganondorf grumbled. He’d kind of been hoping he was just a punk with a magic sword. He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “My tutor was right. It’s never simple, is it?”

Voltaleo cooed. He took that as an agreement.

“You’re even more beautiful in real life than you are in a book, Voltaleo,” Ganondorf said, stroking her feathers.

Voltaleo raised her head high and cawed.

“Shhh!” Link said. “It’s the middle of the night! You’ll wake up the whole neighborhood!”

“Voltaleo does as she pleases!” Ganondorf declared.

Voltaleo cawed again to demonstrate that she answered to no Hylian fool.

Some lights came on in nearby windows. Someone in the distance shouted, “Link, if that’s your damn bird, I told you! If you wake up my cuckoos with that racket, I’ll sick ‘em on ya!”

“Link, is something wrong?” someone else shouted.

“He’s fine!” the first person shouted. “He’s just back with his heroic nonsense again!”

A third person opened a window and shouted, “Would you two shut up?! You’re worse than the bird!”

Link rubbed his face and groaned as Voltaleo cried once more. “Alright, alright! You’ve made your point! Get out of here. Go on.”

“You’re sending her away?!” Ganondorf gasped. “You can’t! I’ve only just met her!”

Link hesitated. “I still have the whistle. I can call her back tomorrow….”

“But tomorrow, we’ll have to fight!” Ganondorf complained.

“Why don’t we postpone that?” Link sighed.

Ganondorf threw his arms around the bird’s neck. He would not budge on this. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Voltaleo already. “Y-you can’t tell Voltaleo what to do! I don’t care how much Pulu fruit you bring her! She can stay if she wants!”

“I guarantee you, she does not want to roost in a tiny village,” Link said. “She’s a cliff bird. Open sky. Big crags. Things to scavenge….”

Voltaleo wrapped her long neck around Ganondorf and cooed. Ganondorf made a face at Link. It was a determined face, and definitely not a pout.

Link deflated like a balloon out of air.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Just for tonight, and only if she’s quiet—”

“Yes! Do you hear that Voltaleo? I’m gonna sleep under your wing and feed you fruits!”

“Y-you should really sleep in a bed…” Link started, but soon gave up, because Ganondorf had already decided and would not be swayed.

He did convince Ganondorf to go inside, with the promise that Voltaleo could stick her head into the kitchen window while Link ensured he got something in his stomach that wasn’t “cult food and trauma.”

So, while Link put a pan on the stove and lit the wood fire with a piece of flint, Ganondorf pet Voltaleo’s head and had a look around. The place was all one room. There was a bed in a loft upstairs, he could spy from there, and there was a table, and a sofa, and not a lot of books, which was disappointing. There were display stands aplenty for swords, bows, and shields, though. Ganondorf might steal one for their battle, or he might not. He was entitled to any weapon he set eyes on, naturally, though he found larger weapons like those on the walls to be unwieldy.

There was one thing about the place that seemed strange to him.

“You live like a peasant,” he said.

“What?” Link looked up from the pan on the stove.

“Where are all your treasures?” Ganondorf asked. “Where are your books of ancient and forbidden knowledge? Where are your clothes?”

“In the drawers up there.”

“You keep them in drawers? Like a peasant!” he said. “You don’t fold nice clothes!” They always got mad when he folded his silks instead of hanging them. He was only meant to fold the rough clothes he trained in.

“I don’t have nice clothes.”

“Why not?”

“I have nowhere to wear them. I guess I could wear noble clothes to go adventuring, but they’d get dirty, singed, and torn up. I have my armors, and that’s enough.”

“What about for ceremonies? And rituals? And parties?”

“Mm. Don’t go to any of those.”

“Why not?”

“Busy saving the world.”

“And you don’t have parties about saving the world?” Ganondorf sniffed. “What are you doing with your life? You’re a peasant wasting your life living in squalor, and all your friends are peasants, and the knights don’t even listen to you even though you ride Voltaleo! You’re pathetic.”

Link scowled at the pan and took it off the heat. It was starting to smell really good. He divided the contents onto two plates and set the smaller portion on the table in front of Ganondorf.

“Why did you get more?” Ganondorf complained.

Link shoved a bottle of milk across the table at him. “If you finish that, I’ll give you more.”

Ganondorf scarfed it down. First of all, it was very, very good. The Yiga cooks had nothing on the hero. In the rush, he’d skipped dinner. Usually, they came to bring him his dinner before sundown, but there was clearly a problem….

Such as…a hero attacking in the dead of night.

Ganondorf eyed the man across from him suspiciously and lifted a hand to stroke Voltaleo’s head. Voltaleo’s soft feathers made him feel less nervous.

“Just so you know, you can’t poison me,” Ganondorf said with his mouth full.

“That’s right,” Link said, and opened the cork on a different bottle that was much taller than his milk. “All the poison is for me.”

He poured the tall bottle into his cup and took it all down in one gulp. Ganondorf gaped at him. Was that bottle really poison?

“Y-you’re playing a trick on me.”

Link shuddered and put the bottle away. “Maybe.” He sat down and shoveled down his portion of food. “Maybe not.”

Ganondorf eyed the bottle suspiciously. “That’s stupid! You wouldn’t drink poison.”

“Oh, adults drink poison all the time,” Link said.

“No they don’t! You’re lying to me! Just like you lie all the time!”

Link shrugged. He couldn’t argue, Ganondorf figured, because he was a liar.

He glanced at the bottle again.

It was definitely a trick.

Probably.

“Alright,” Link said when his plate was cleared. “You want seconds?”

Ganondorf was quite full, though. The portioning was exactly right after all. “I’ve decided…not right now. Instead, I’ll command you to cook for me again in the morning.”

“I see.”

Link got up and set a tiny, paper-wrapped item next to Ganondorf’s plate.

“What’s this?” Ganondorf asked.

“It’s candy.”

“This little thing?”

Link nodded. “You don’t have to eat it. I heard children like it.”

“And what makes you think I’m a child?” Ganondorf demanded.

“Oh, I also heard that some strong warriors like them, too,” Link added. “Not all of them, but some.”

Oh. In that case….

He unwrapped the sticky candy and popped it in his mouth. It was so sugary, and a little sour, like fruit! It was wonderful.

“I guess I’m one of those warriors who likes them,” Ganondorf said. “You have my permission to continue offering me these candies.”

Link rolled his eyes and took the plates. He took a glance at Ganondorf, and at the washbasin, considering something in that shrewd, lying brain of his. But then muttered, “Should do something about that…but not tonight.”

Ganondorf yawned at the table. With his stomach full, he felt a little better and a little less nervous. He still petted Voltaleo, though, and watched Link carefully as he stacked the plates in the washbasin.

Everything was in one place! Servant room, bedroom, dining room, everything! The only thing missing was the stables. It was a little gross. Why would your servants wash your plates in the same place where you eat?

“You can take the bed,” Link said. “I’ll be up if you need anything.”

“I’m sleeping under Voltaleo’s wing tonight,” Ganondorf reminded him. How easily he forgot!

“You should really sleep in a bed,” Link said, but he was repeating himself. They already discussed this. Ganondorf had made his decision, and he would hear no arguments.

“And let you send Voltaleo away?” Ganondorf scoffed. “I think not! Expect my return in the morning, hero! For then, you and I will do battle!”

He hopped from the table and marched outside to join the legendary bird.

It was cool and humid in this strange, green place. The earth was soft and squishy, not sandy and hard. There was tall grass everywhere, and trees, and big bushes with berries growing on them. He stopped to take off his boots just to feel the strange green, spongy stuff under his feet.

There was still a sliver of light coming from the door behind him. Ganondorf stopped to look back. Link was peering out at him from the cracked door.

“We will battle tomorrow!” he said again. “Leave me!”

With that souring his mood, he stalked over to Voltaleo and had a seat at her side.

“I don’t understand why you respect him,” he huffed. That wasn’t completely true. “I guess he makes good food. And he is a warrior.”

It was colder here than he was used to. He cuddled up into Voltaleo’s down feathers. She wrapped a strong wing around his shoulders.

“Voltaleo,” he whispered, “I’m not at full strength right now. If we do battle in the morning…do you think…I could die?”

Voltaleo answered with a grim coo.

He was right. It was impossible to fight that legendary sword in his current state. If he’d had the time to rise to his full power, of course he would easily defeat the hero, but right now…!

Ganondorf’s eyes stung. “What should I do?” he said. “It isn’t honorable at all, killing me before I’ve returned to my full strength!”

There was a strange noise in the underbrush. Ganondorf jumped and scooted closer to Voltaleo.

This green place was so loud. There were animal noises in the shadows everywhere, and even when he concentrated his dark magic to see in the dark, he couldn’t see a single living creature. There were too many hiding places in the great green expanse. Frogs croaked in the streams and pools running through town, somewhere. Flies buzzed. A creature he’d never heard of asked, “Whooooo, whooooo?” overhead, loudly present but unseen.

He wasn’t afraid of monsters. Monsters served him. But the wild dogs didn’t serve him. The carrion birds and spiders didn’t, either.

He sniffed, and tears rolled down his face. He missed home already. He would never be able to go home, and even if he did, there was no one waiting for him there. Everyone was dead. He didn’t like them, but he didn’t want them dead.

That meant he was all alone, and no one was around to tell him what he should do now. He was supposed to have advisors for that sort of thing. Now he had no minions at all.

Voltaleo nudged her head against his. Bonk. A chortle bubbled out of his throat even though he wanted to just cry. The rest of the night was terrible, but it was made much better by meeting Voltaleo.

“You should let me ride you instead,” Ganondorf said. “I’m better than him. Oh, that’s exactly what you should do! You should take me far away to the Gerudo Desert. That’s where I belong!”

Voltaleo burbled, but Ganondorf didn’t understand.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Ganondorf said, and started to climb up into the saddle.

Voltaleo tipped her body so he rolled right off.

“Hey!” he complained.

She didn’t pay him any mind and re-situated herself next to him in the grass. She pulled him into her body with one wing again.

“What’s so special about Pulu fruit, anyway?!” he complained more. “I’m a king. He’s just a peasant! You’ve seen how he lives! Do you want someone like that to kill me? You’d be much better off with me. He’s not even from the desert! I bet he’s never seen it.”

“I did see it. When I met her.”

Ganondorf jumped out of his skin.

He hadn’t been trying to see in the dark at that moment, so he didn’t notice Link approaching with all that stuff in his hands. Ganondorf wiped away his tears just in case Link had some similar power.

“It doesn’t get as cold at night here as it does there,” Link said, “but you still need a fire.”

He laid down a bundle of sticks and lit it up with flint. Within a few minutes, he had a good campfire going close enough to warm Ganondorf as long as he stayed close to Voltaleo.

Then Link draped a blanket over Ganondorf’s lap and handed him a pillow.

“If you insist on sleeping outside, at least take this,” he said.

Ganondorf took it, but he didn’t say anything clever in response. He was too tired, and it was taking all he had not to cry again. He refused to cry in front of the hero.

“Do you need anything else?” Link asked.

“I wish to be alone,” Ganondorf said.

Link sighed, gave him a nod, and went back inside.

Ganondorf jumped again when he saw the front door open, but it was just Link with the washbasin, headed to the stream, to…to do his own dishes, of all things.

“Peasant,” Ganondorf spat. “Look at him! You really respect that guy?”

He snuggled down into the blankets. In the warmth of the fire, with a soft pillow and Voltaleo next to him, he drifted off into uneasy sleep.



“Link! What’s wrong with you? You can’t just take in a child and then make him sleep outside in your stables!”

Someone was making a racket nearby.

Link was sitting on the doorstep of the cottage. Some old vai was wagging a finger at him. Link was suppressing a groan, rubbing his face.

“Where’s his mother? Is it one of those desert women? He has that look of him. Link, you can’t treat him that way just because he’s foreign. Or was he unplanned? It’s just cruel to blame the child for your romps through the groves of love—”

“No! He’s not mine!” Link said quickly. His face turned red, all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “He’s an orphan….”

Excuse me! Ganondorf wasn’t some orphan. He was the king of darkness! Orphans were street urchins, even lower than peasants!

“All the more reason you need to take care of him properly, then, if you’re adopting him! The poor dear must have been through so much already.”

Link had been ready to argue back, but there, he shut his mouth and braced his head on his hand with his elbow on his knee. He let out a long, tired sigh.

“I’m going to ask the carpenter for a bed for him today,” Link said. “I just got back….”

“You should have come to wake me up if you had no place for him to sleep!” she scolded him. “I know you barely even live in that house! It hardly counts as a home fit to raise a child!” Then she noticed Ganondorf was awake, and her tone lightened up. “Oh, good morning, dear! How are you feeling? Did you have a good little nap with Voltie?”

“Voltie?!” Ganondorf gasped. Did this old vai just call the legendary bird Voltaleo…Voltie?!

“Oh, it’s just a little nickname. Good morning, Voltie. There’s a good bird.” She took a pink fruit out of her apron and handed it to Voltaleo. She ate it right up in her golden beak. “Hungry, weren’t you?”

“What’s that?” Ganondorf asked. “Pulu Fruit?!”

“No, this is heartpeach. Would you like one, young man?”

“Yes!”

She gave him one, and he gasped the moment he set his hands on it. “It’s fuzzy!”

She laughed. “Yes it is! That’s a heartpeach for you. They grow everywhere around here. It’s tasty, and good for you, too! Keeps the doctor away!”

“Doctor resistance,” Ganondorf whispered gravely. Doctors were awful. Warding against them would be important to his conquest. “I’ll remember that.”

“What’s your name, young man?”

“I am the great—”

“It’s Gan,” Link interrupted quickly. “His name is Gan.”

“Gan?” she asked.

Ganondorf huffed, “Excuse you! My name is—”

“Very long and also a secret,” Link said pointedly, frowning at him. “Remember the captain’s reaction? We don’t want that to happen here. Keep your full name secret, alright, Gan?”

Ganondorf would have argued. He wasn’t afraid of the knight who tried to kill him when Link said the name “Ganondorf, king of darkness.” It was just that…it had been a little inconvenient when someone tried to kill him who wasn’t the hero. That was all.

“Your title, too,” Link said, lifting a finger to his lips. “We’re going to pretend to be spies for a little while.”

Ganondorf perked up. “Oh, so I’m undercover? Yes…that suits me fine.” He knew how to do that, at least. The Yiga Clan had given him training. “I am a master of subtlety. I am most at home in the shadows of darkness.”

“My goodness, Link, why is that necessary?” the old vai asked at a whisper.

“His situation is a little complicated,” Link whispered back. “I less adopted him and more…took him into…protective custody?”

“You do not keep custody of me!” Ganondorf said, jumping to his feet. “You said I was not a prisoner, but a guest!”

“You are,” Link said. “That’s not what that means—”

Ganondorf pointed a finger at him. “And now you try to convince me I don’t know what ‘custody’ means! I’m on to your games, trickster!”

Link sighed at the old woman. He gestured at Ganondorf.

She said, “Link, is this boy…foreign royalty?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Oh, no. Is it that obvious?”

“It’s the way he speaks,” she said. “And he looks Gerudo, but that’s impossible. All Gerudo are born with a womb, aren’t they?”

“Sometimes they’re not,” Link said. “Rarely, but sometimes.”

“That’s right! I am the chosen—” Ganondorf began.

“He was kidnapped royalty held prisoner in a tower,” Link said.

“I wasn’t kidnapped!” Ganondorf snapped. “Those were my minions! You killed them! If anyone’s a kidnapper, it’s you!”

Flatly, Link said, “I took you away from a cult that was grooming you as a mortal vessel for a demon.”

“Yes!” Ganondorf huffed. “It was very rude of you.”

Link looked at the old vai again and pointed at Ganondorf.

“Oh, dear,” the old vai sighed. “I see….”

Just “I see.” Link had been saying that a lot, too. Very rude of him never to explain himself at all about that.

“So you see,” Ganondorf said, “I find myself in need of more minions. Would you care to follow me for the promises of dark power, madam?”

Her white eyebrows rose on her head. “I appreciate the offer, Gan, but I think I’ll have to get back to you. You can just call me Granny for now.”

Ganondorf swallowed. No one had ever refused the promise of dark power and then been allowed to live. The Yiga Clan would kill anyone who dared to refuse. But…Granny had given him a heartpeach and had been very pleasant, so he was disinclined to kill her.

He took a bite of the peach, to make his decision for him. It was sweet and delicious and juicy, even though the skin was strange.

“Very well,” he said. “But if you change your mind, I’m always searching for new dark servants.”

Granny nodded slowly. “Right, then. I think you’d best go up to the carpenter’s with Link to get you a proper bed, Gan.”

Gan hesitated. He supposed he could think of himself as Gan. It was conveniently short and quippy. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but thank you.” He took another bite.

“Why not?” Granny asked him.

He shrugged, almost apologetically, though he did not apologize as a rule. “The hero and I are going to fight to the death today.” She looked confused, so he added as an explanation, “For the fate of all Hyrule.”

“You’re what, now?” she asked Link in an accusatory tone.

Link winced. “Gan, I think we should put that off for a while.”

“Why? So you can pull some trick on me?” Gan said. “I think not!”

“Let me rephrase,” Link said sternly. “I’m not fighting you to the death. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not this year, or the next.”

“That’s just cowardly!” Gan complained.

“I’m not—!” Link started to raise his voice, but caught himself. He took a long breath and stroked his chin, thinking hard. At last, he raised a finger. “There are many trials the hero has to undergo before he’s ready to save Hyrule. The same is true for you. You had trials, training, and rituals, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Gan said.

“But you didn’t complete them all.”

“I was interrupted, no thanks to you!” Gan spat.

“Right. So there are trials you have to complete before you can face me,” Link said. “Usually, it’s the other way around, but this time, it’s different, because I got a head start on you.”

“That’s not fair,” Gan muttered.

“Yeah, well, usually you get a head start on me, so I think it’s plenty fair,” Link said. “Anyway…a trial. Hmm….” He nodded and said, “Anytime you want, you can challenge me to a fight.”

“Link!” Granny gasped at him.

“I’m getting there!” Link said. “But first, you have to beat me while I’m using a wooden spoon as a weapon. If you can break my weapon, you win.”

Oh, that was much better than facing the legendary sword! “I will show you no mercy,” Gan promised.

“However, after that, you’ll face me with a tree branch,” Link said. “And after that, you’ll face me with a club. And so on. You have to work your way up to the Master Sword. Only then will I fight you to the death. Otherwise, if you try to fight me, I’ll stop you where you stand, or I’ll run away like a coward. No fighting allowed, unless you present a formal challenge of trial. Understand?”

“You expect me not to raise a hand against you, even if you deserve it?!” Gan asked.

“I do,” Link said. “I expect you not to fight unless you’re training, or someone is in immediate danger. And I mean, there’s a monster, or someone else started it. Otherwise, no fighting. And even if someone else started it, no killing. Understand?”

Gan wasn’t sure how he felt about this.

“It’s not his rule, young Gan,” Granny told him. “It’s the law of the land. If you fight whenever you want, the knights will come for you.”

Gan fidgeted in place and pet Voltaleo’s feathery neck. “That would be…inconvenient,” he muttered.

“So let’s not fight,” Link said.

“Then how am I to grow my power?”

Link hesitated.

“I must grow my power,” Gan said. “You can’t keep me here, weakened as I am. You can’t keep me sealed away forever in this peasant place! I’ll leave if I must, and I’ll return when I’m prepared to fight you to the death!”

Link bit his lip.

“Where is his family, Link?” Granny asked.

Link didn’t answer. Instead, with a grim face, he knelt in front of Gan to look him in the eye, and he said, “I will help you grow stronger.”

Gan didn’t expect that answer. “Why?”

“Don’t leave,” Link said. “I’ll help you grow your power. I’ll protect you from the knights. I won’t let the Yiga Clan turn you into a demon. If you still want to kill me after your trials, I’ll face you with the Master Sword like you ask. But for now, stay here.”

Gan wasn’t so sure about that.

“Sleep in a bed, and not outside in the dirt,” Link asked him. “A peasant house is still better than no house, isn’t it?”

Maybe…

“And,” Link added, “if you stay here with me, you can see Voltaleo every day.”

Oh! That was a good point.

In the light of day, this town looked very different. The green was even brighter than it was under his nightvision. There was a stream that he wanted to explore, and a big hill, and even something that looked like a cave.

Until he finished exploring this place…maybe it was okay to stay here.

And he could study his enemy’s techniques, if the hero really was going to train him.

And the food, at least, wasn’t peasant food at all.

Link beckoned him into the village, and Granny walked along with them. There were other people his age running around in the village. Kids. Granny said he could “make friends.”

She pointed out other things, too. There were cuckoos in a nearby yard. There were farm plots where they grew heartpeaches, and carrots, and potatoes. There were shops where they sold household goods, arrows, and potions. There was a tavern where adults hung around, and a schoolhouse where children went.

They went into the carpenter’s shop, where Gan saw all kinds of things made of wood that didn’t look like peasant things at all.

“About the pillows,” Link said, “could I make a request? And could you rush it?”

“It’ll cost you,” the carpenter said. Link handed him a handful of purple rupees. “Yes, sir! We’ll get it to you tonight!”

“How much is that?” Gan asked Granny.

“Quite a lot,” she answered. “My son has gathered a small fortune from adventuring, I think. I have to be careful not to mention expensive things I want, or they’ll suddenly end up on my doorstep one day!”

“But he lives like a peasant!” Gan said.

“He likes it that way, young Gan,” Granny said. “His work is very complicated and dangerous and full of treasure, so I think he prefers a simpler life outside work without all those things.”

It sort of made sense…except that it didn’t make sense at all. Who would want to live in squalor?

That night, a bunch of adults came to Link’s house and set up the second bed in the loft. They brought it in pieces, but put it all together in a bed shape in a matter of minutes! And they didn’t use magic or anything! It was amazing! Gan had never seen anything like it.

Then, the carpenter said, “One more thing,” and handed him a stuffed animal. “There you go, little fellow.”

It was a red bird with five ribbons of different colors on its tail and a bright yellow beak.

The carpenter said, “Your dad thought you might be lonely sleeping without Voltie, so I had my wife stitch this one together for you.”

“What? For me?” Gan took the animal and clutched it to himself. He was too old for stuffed animals, but he held it tight all the same. It wasn’t the same as Voltaleo at all, but it was very soft, and he didn’t have any of his old toys, and…. He said, “I don’t have a father.”

“Oh! My mistake! I didn’t know,” the carpenter said, and shrugged at Link with a wince. Link waved him off.

“Thank you for this,” Link said.

“Tell the nice man ‘thank you,’” Granny told Gan.

Gan said, “Why? Link already did!”

“Now, Gan!” Granny said.

“Sorry,” Link said. “He’s had a rough couple of days.”

The carpenter laughed. “It’s fine! I owe you more than one, after all! And you always pay well! That doesn’t hurt!”

The adults shook hands, and Ganondorf went to the bed that was now his. He tested it with his hands, feeling the give of the mattress. Then he climbed on it and looked out the window over his bed.

It was dark again, but it was warmer inside than out. Voltaleo had left while they were out, so there was no bird to stick her head through the window. But he did have a memento to keep him company while she was gone.

The adults filtered out downstairs, until it was just Granny and Link. He heard them whispering about him.

“Link, that boy,” Granny said. “The Gerudo boy, kept by the Yiga Clan. Is he…?”

“Shhh….”

Granny called for him up the stairs, so Gan went to the loft railing. She said, “I’m going home for the night, Gan. Sleep tight, and have good dreams!”

“I’ll see if my dreams bear fruit tonight,” Gan promised, though he wasn’t hopeful. The Yiga Clan often asked him about his dreams, and he could rarely remember them. Or they were disappointed about his dreams of World Turtles or funny lizards or little woodland spirits.

When she was gone, Link put out the lights and came upstairs. “Need anything?” he asked. “Milk? Blankets?”

Gan needed something, but he didn’t know what. That wasn’t his bed. He didn’t know if he could sleep in it.

“Are you alright?” Link asked him.

“I’m fine!” Gan snapped. “Don’t think you have the advantage just because I’ve decided to cooperate with you for now. It’s only because it’s convenient for me! One day, I will pass your trials and destroy you.”

Link nodded. “Let’s worry about that tomorrow, yeah? Tonight, no one’s going to hurt you.”

Gan squeezed the stuffed bird.

He was glad to hear that. He was surprised how much such a small thing mattered to hear.

Link prodded him, “What did you used to do to get ready for bed?”

That was a better question. “I used to have a book to read,” Gan said.

“Hm…I don’t have a book I think you’d like, but I bet I know someone who does.”

He was in and out of the house in a very short time. He came back with a weathered old book in his hands.

“Want me to read it to you?” he asked Gan. “Or would you rather have it?”

“My eyes are weary,” Gan said, and he laid down in the bed. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need anyone to read to him. “You may read it.”

The book began with an old heartpeach farming couple who were sad because they had no child of their own. They prayed to the goddess, and out of a peach was born a beautiful baby boy….

And he went on many adventures, all of which were very exciting and full of green places just like in this little town, with farms and streams and forests and caves. There were towns, too, full of colorful people, rather than fortresses full of servants. There were cuckoos and dogs and birds…

He was only barely awake when he felt someone else pull the blankets over his shoulders, and the words faded away into the croaking of the frogs outside his window and the whatever-it-was asking, “Whoooooo?”

So he slept in a bed.

Voltaleo did come back, and she did stick her head in his window that morning, and every morning thereafter, for pets. She did not let him sleep in. He got used to waking up to the smell of food cooking in the very same room. There was something nice about that. He used to think he liked his old bed better, but slowly he forgot about his old bed, and when he woke up in this new place, it wasn’t so alarming.

Soon it changed from “not his bed” to “his bed,” and when that happened, he couldn’t say.

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