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Gifts of Gold
In Which Ganondorf’s Love Language is Gift-Giving
It began with a bracelet. One for each of them. Simple bands, unadorned; small trinkets to celebrate them being alive, having survived, and with him. He had returned home alone, after all, and though they had discussed it all beforehand, as they tried to steer the wagon between crowded tree trunks, the relief at their arrival in the desert some days later had been immediate and overwhelming.
It was an occasion that warranted celebration. The three of them together once more, alive and… mostly well.
So, it began with bracelets.
Zelda was largely uninterested. Link blushed and stammered like he didn’t know what to do. But, in the end, they both accepted. Link could only put his on his left wrist, so Zelda put hers on her right, running gloved fingers across it.
‘How does it look?’ she asked, and flashed a quick, sharp smile.
‘They suit you,’ Ganondorf replied, as Link moved to her side and lined their arms up, gold glinting on each wrist.
‘Well, good,’ she said, flicking hers so it jangled against Link’s. ‘Thanks.’
She was flippant about it, but she didn’t take it off. They had become obscured to her Sight, but Ganondorf wondered if she could feel the gentle warmth swelling in his chest. They were just simple gifts, petty trinkets, small and inconsequential, but…
But they had accepted them. Link and Zelda both. And they were here and they were alive to accept them, which was really the whole point.
From there, it escalated. There was never any particular intent, no grand plan. Ganondorf just liked giving them. Sometimes, it was little more than a new pair of earrings when an old pair broke. A new brooch or button when others became worn.
Sometimes, it was a shining hair pin, because his hair was getting long and he was always huffing as he pushed it away from his face while he pored over this manuscript or studied that artefact.
Sometimes it was a ring, perhaps plain gold, perhaps something more elaborate with textures for her to enjoy, because she had taken to wearing rings now that she wore her gloves less often. She fiddled with them constantly, twisting them or running her fingers over their stones and embellishments.
Sometimes, it was something pulled from the family vault, or uncovered from beneath the sands and mesas, something so tarnished it was almost unrecognisable. They became projects, pieces of history for him to explore as he restored them to their former glory, and Ganondorf did so enjoy listening to him as he worked.
Slowly, steadily, their collections grew. Until Zelda – of course it was Zelda – caught on. It was mid-afternoon, the air heavy with shimmering heat and the sky piercingly bright. The palace smelled of jasmine and rose, and the halls were quiet, everyone within loath to move around too much.
Everyone except, it seemed, Zelda.
‘Ganondorf,’ she said, sweeping into his chambers with a harried maidservant at her heels, one who looked as scandalised as ever at Zelda’s casual address before she remembered to bow, ‘are you trying to turn me into a statue?’
‘Statue?’ he repeated.
She held out her arms, striking a pose, and raised her eyebrows. Gold glittered on her wrists, shimmered at her throat, sparkled in her hair and within the folds of her clothes. It suited her. Went well against the soft, sun-kissed brown of her skin, stood out against the deep blue of her robes, turned her hair to liquid gold.
‘I’m wearing so much gold,’ she said, ‘you might as well gild me with it.’
‘You’re not supposed to wear it all at once,’ Ganondorf replied, eyeing her hands which were so covered in rings – several in danger of slipping off – that her fingers were almost entirely golden.
‘I’m making a point.’
‘I don’t know.’ Link’s voice emerged from outside his chambers a moment before he appeared through the door. ‘I think it looks pretty cool.’
He also seemed to be wearing his entire collection. It suited him just as well, glinting brighter against his darker hair, stacked upon his arm and ankles, dripping from the cuffs along his ears. He was a vision, radiant and beautiful.
Had Ganondorf really given them so many gifts? They had only been here a few short months – barely long enough for their scars to start fading.
‘You’re both ridiculous,’ he said.
‘Clearly, you’re the ridiculous one here,’ Zelda replied, putting her hands on her hips. ‘Why are you plying us with gold like this?’
Ganondorf didn’t splutter, but it was a close thing. ‘Plying?’
How could he explain the joy he felt, at how wide Link’s eyes grew at the sight of each gift, how they sparkled and how he blushed, rushing to try them on and show how well they fit? The amusement and wonder he felt with each fact and historical tale Link recounted as he worked on each tarnished piece – all now displayed proudly on his person?
How did he explain the warmth that filled his chest when Zelda huffed and pouted her way through opening each gift, calling them tacky and unnecessary – because what did it matter to her if they were gold or tin? – but he later caught her wearing them, each and every one, brushing her fingers over them as she smiled small, secret smiles when she thought no one was watching?
How did he describe the feeling of knowing, with certainty, that everyone they passed knew? His aunts, his mother, every servant and civilian they passed in the palace and around the town. All knew that the gold Link and Zelda wore, on their wrists and in their hair and around their throats, was from him. Each gift marked them as his, and him as theirs, and he wanted all the world to know it.
It might have been simpler, if Zelda could still See him as she had before. She still felt things, from the both of them, but she always told them it was muted, shielded by a golden veil.
And now, looking at the both of them, marvelling at the sight of them, Ganondorf felt his heart falter. All at once, he doubted.
He had marked them as bound, but… They had never spoken about it. Yes, they had been staying here, with him, in the palace. But for how long? Would Hyrule eventually call them back? Link would leave, surely, to continue his work hunting curses. Zelda might grow bored, cooped up here, and return to her wandering.
And if they did, would they return? A few bangles and trinkets were not enough to bind them, really.
‘I…’ Ganondorf smiled around the sudden ache in his chest. ‘You don’t have to keep them.’
This was strange territory, after all. The three of them had been through much together, shared hardships and triumphs, but… All these months in, it was still hard to define what lay between them. He had seen desire in Link’s eyes, had felt it himself; though Zelda had expressed no interest in such things, that didn’t matter. They were each caught in the others’ orbits, inseparable even if no romance or relations ever occurred between them. Ganondorf could not image the palace, his life, without them in it.
His mother had her questions. He would be king, soon, and once he was, there would be expectations. But he would have few people to truly answer to – not counting his duty to his people – and nobody dared question what royalty did behind closed doors.
‘Well, I want to keep them,’ Link said, shrinking back slightly, as if to keep the gold adorning him out of Ganondorf’s reach.
‘They are just trinkets,’ Ganondorf said, and swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth. ‘You don’t need to read anything into them, Zelda. I give you gifts because it brings me joy to do so.’
She smiled, that same sharp smile that always meant trouble. Ganondorf braced himself.
‘You forget,’ she said, voice sweet, ‘that I’m a Seer. Don’t lie, Ganondorf. I know what these trinkets mean.’
Ganondorf sat still under her attention, the cushions suddenly too soft beneath him, offering him no support. Link fidgeted with an earring, looking somewhat lost.
‘You don’t have to keep them,’ he repeated, more softly, his voice near failing him. ‘You may return them. Or pawn them, if you so wish.’
‘No way!’ Link protested. ‘Zelda, you can’t do that.’
‘Don’t get mad at me, he’s the one who suggested it.’
‘Don’t even think about it, then.’
‘What do you care? They’re my gifts, I can do what I like with them.’
‘That’s right, they’re gifts. You don’t sell gifts, Zelda.’
He stomped up behind her, frowning. She batted him away, and half the rings she had crammed on her fingers slipped free. They chimed merrily as they hit the floor and scattered in all directions.
‘Shit,’ Zelda said, once they had finally all fallen still. ‘You’re helping me find those, idiot.’
Link scowled at the back of her head. Despite all the sudden misgivings in his heart, Ganondorf couldn’t help laughing. They both started, then turned to frown at him, and he laughed harder. Honestly, these two.
He loved them. Dearly, desperately. It was not what he had imagined, when he had learned about love as a boy, but he didn’t think it mattered. They had each taken half of his heart, and if they left, he would be bereft.
Zelda sighed. She shook her head and approached, gold in her hair and at her wrists and on her hands. She crouched down, and he got the impression she was studying him, in that way only she could. Even if there was only gold for her to find, these days.
‘You don’t have to give us gifts to get us to stay,’ she said, voice low and soft, words making him wonder if she had been entirely truthful about how much she Saw of either of them.
‘That’s not why I give them,’ he replied. ‘Truly.’
She put a finger to his lips and smiled. ‘All you have to do is ask, silly.’
‘But, I mean,’ Link crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside Ganondorf, ‘it’s pretty obvious, even if you don’t.’
‘Still,’ Zelda said, ‘it’s good to make things clear.’
Looking between them, Ganondorf could do nothing but sigh fondly. He took Zelda’s hand in his as Link shuffled closer, leaning into his side.
‘I want you to stay here,’ he said. ‘Of course I do. If you want to—’
‘Wouldn’t it be complicated?’ Link asked, elbow jabbing Ganondorf’s ribs. ‘You’re going to be king, after all.’
‘Haven’t you heard?’ Ganondorf slung his free arm around Link’s shoulders. ‘Kings do as they please.’
Ganondorf held back on giving them any more gifts. He let their discussion rest, and tried to quell the doubts that had settled in the back of his head. The gentle, creeping fears of the future – a future they had claimed for themselves, had won fighting tooth and nail, and now got to explore. Where would their paths lead, in one year or two? Would they separate, eventually?
Rationally, he knew worrying about that kind of thing was pointless. For the most part, he didn’t. But in quiet moments, walking through the palace alone, or on nights they slept in their separate beds, he wondered. Trembled with the weight of a future he had, at one point, relinquished so easily and so wholeheartedly.
Then there were other times, when Zelda was at his side as he walked, making this acerbic comment or that shrewd observation. When Link joined him in his chambers and, while they lay side by side in softly sputtering candlelight, talking quietly, traced the silver scars that threaded through his skin like trails of lightning. In those times, there was no doubt in his heart. Only a glowing certainty that they were bound together, truly and forever.
‘Be careful with that heart of yours, dearest.’ His mother had said it many times, and continued to say it, even now.
Nabooru was certain, still, that one or both of them was going to shatter him. They held the power to do so, that much was undeniable. But Ganondorf thought, hoped, they wouldn’t.
It was, perhaps, why he found his insides fluttering with unease when he found them both in his chambers one evening, sitting side by side on his low couch with matching serious expressions. Zelda was tapping her rings against her stick in an uncertain rhythm. Link held a small wooden box in his lap.
Unease or not, Ganondorf’s heart still warmed to see them both. The evening was cooling quickly, the sky vast and dark, glittering with stars, and the scents of the night gardens wafted sweetly through the open windows.
Ganondorf didn’t speak. He just approached, slowly, giving either one of them ample time to explain. Neither did, which only served to set him more on edge. Then he was standing in front of them, not sure what to expect, not sure what to do with himself, glancing between them in search of an end to this unexpected torment.
‘We’ve been talking,’ Link finally said, words leaving him in a breathless rush. ‘And I—and we—’ He paused, took a breath. ‘Sorry. Farore’s grace, I didn’t expect to be this nervous.’
‘Nervous?’ Ganondorf repeated, his mind conjuring several unpleasant scenarios.
Zelda stopped her tapping and squeezed her stick instead. ‘Just give him the—’
‘Oh, right, yeah.’ Link brightened and held out the box. ‘For you.’
Was this some kind of parting gift? Was he going to find a letter inside, signed by both of them, explaining that they were sorry, but they wished to leave and never look back?
There was nothing he could do but accept the box, so he did. He thought he maybe recognised it, had maybe gifted it to one of them some time ago, but he couldn’t be sure. Glancing between them both one last time, he slid the lid open.
Gold glinted inside. He smelled thyme and lavender as he, slowly, carefully, lifted the pair bracelets out of the box. They were made of gold, one delicately twisted into the shape of the great desert snakes of old, the other a solid band etched with constellations that shimmered softly as he studied them.
‘Was there really a need for all these theatrics?’ he asked, once he could find his voice again, an odd little lump in his throat. ‘They’re beautiful. Thank you.’
He didn’t even know where they’d got them. Had they commissioned them? Had Link unearthed them, somewhere? Maybe they roped in Nabooru or his aunts.
‘We want to stay!’
The words burst out of Link like he had been holding them in all this time. Maybe for days, or weeks. Zelda elbowed him, and he yelped and whined. Then, rubbing his side, he grinned at Ganondorf.
‘With you, I mean,’ he said. ‘We want to stay. Officially, unofficially… I don’t want to leave.’
Ganondorf looked at Zelda, not sure what he was searching for but looking anyway. Sensing his gaze on her, like always, she smiled. A rare, genuine smile, the one that never failed to make Ganondorf’s heart as soft and warm as dappled sunlight.
‘You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid,’ she said.
‘My home is your home,’ Ganondorf replied, barely whispering, fighting to keep his voice level, ‘for as long as you’ll have it.’
‘Here.’ Link held out his hand. ‘Let’s put them on.’
Handing him the box, Ganondorf knelt in front of the couch. Link’s touch was achingly gentle as he slid each one on, the weight and press of them different, but not unfamiliar. Ganondorf traced the serpent, fingers bumping Link’s as he did the same.
‘They look great,’ he said, smiling a great, broad smile.
‘Thank you,’ Ganondorf replied softly. ‘Both of you.’
Zelda tutted. ‘It’s just metal.’
But she reached out too, stroking her fingers down the line of his neck to rest on his shoulder.
Then, because he didn’t know what to do with the swelling in his chest, the smile breaking across his face, he pulled them both to him, half dragging them off the couch to wrap them in a hug. Zelda sighed and Link laughed, but neither of them pulled away. Zelda hooked an arm across his back; Link nestled his face against Ganondorf’s shoulder.
He loved them. Plainly and simply. They were his, and he was theirs, and it was going to remain that way. For as long as they would have him. The future they had clawed back from goddesses and demons stretched out ahead of them, shining and golden and endless.
Ganondorf had so many more gifts to give them. For now, though, they could wait.