Chapter Text
Finally, it was over. The Twilight was repelled, Hyrule was bathed in light once again, and Zelda’s torn spirit was stitched back together in her own body where it rightfully belonged. The dark king was defeated; Zelda had watched him die with pity and relief both. She had interacted little with the man who had attempted to steal her kingdom, save for when he had forced himself into her body and she had felt his pain and rage pounding in her heart.
She had approached his corpse after Link’s victory, and after a brief but intense hesitation, had taken the Triforce of Power into her own body. (What else was she meant to do with it? She’d considered giving it to Midna, as she had with Wisdom to save her life. But the Twili Princess did not know what the Triforce was; no one did, apart from Zelda herself and the dead man before her. She could not burden anyone with that knowledge. Nor with that power.)
Then she had burned Ganondorf’s body.
It was final. It was over. So why did she feel so uneasy? And why was she still having dreams?
Each night, she dreamed. She dreamed of women, red haired and strong, and felt the intense urge to protect them. To avenge them. She dreamed of an unjust trial and of her own execution. She dreamed of an eternity of pain and darkness.
It means nothing, she told herself each time she woke in a sweat, gasping. It’s time to move on.
She’d nearly started to believe it.
Then one morning, after a particularly dream-filled night, she entered her bathing chamber to splash water onto her face.
When she lifted her head to the mirror, her irises were amber. Her mouth opened in horror. Then, against her will, twisted itself into a cruel smile.
Hello, Princess, said Ganondorf inside her mind.
She jerked back from the countertop, mouth open in a silent scream.
I’m dreaming, she thought. Still dreaming.
Not a dream, Ganondorf cooed. Did you think you were free of me, Princess?
“You… You’re dead,” she stammered. “I saw you – I burned –”
A flash of rage rushed through her, the shock of it cutting her off. You did, said Ganondorf shortly, then as soon as it had appeared the rage was gone, replaced by a burning satisfaction. Good then, that I thought to take precautions.
Her body moved, of its own accord, back towards the mirror. He leaned in, examining her reflection. Her skin was clear, no lines of corruption like the previous time he had controlled her, but her eyes were still amber instead of their usual blue. He would need to resolve that – entirely too noticeable; he wanted no one to know when he –
“Get out of my head!” Zelda cried, forcing herself back. She felt that she was moving through sludge.
And go where? My body is gone, as you so kindly reminded me. No, dear Princess, I’m afraid you are stuck with me. Her lips curled into a smirk. I knew that hero might defeat me; I was still far too weak after being stuck in the Twilight Realm for so long. When he forced me out of you, I left a piece of myself behind. Just in case.
His smugness pulsed within her, a second heart beating beside her own. She could feel his essence all around her.
I wonder, Ganondorf continued, if you had not taken the Triforce of Power, would I be able to control you thus? It has been mine for so long – it has chosen me. It is a piece of me too, really. He laughed, the sound reverberating around her mind. You could not resist the allure of power, could you, Princess? Shall we go after courage next?
Breathing shakily, she reached for him, for his thoughts that were entwined with her own, for the pieces of him trailing through her blood and attached to her soul. She imagined a dark box deep within the recesses of her heart and shoved him inside, sealing him with a glowing key, built of light itself. Immediately she could move easily again; her amber eyes faded back into blue.
“Do not try to tell me that I am like you,” she told her reflection.
He simply laughed. I’ve been waiting hundreds of years, Princess, he said, muted – but still very much present. I can wait a bit longer for you to slip up.
***
She went through her day normally – what else could she do? There was no one she could tell about Ganondorf; the vast majority of the people of Hyrule, even many working for the crown, had no idea they’d been invaded by Twilight to begin with, and those who did knew only of Zant, not of the one granting the usurper king’s powers. How could she possibly explain that their princess – their queen in all but name – was under attack once again, this time from within? At best she would cause panic, at worst she would be accused of madness.
I will figure out how to remove him, she told herself. Ganondorf laughed within her in response, pushing up against that imaginary locked box within her. She threw the key into a lake.
She sat upon her throne (It is more comfortable in this body, Ganondorf remarked. It was a bit small for me. She tried to ignore him), listening to petitioners who had come to speak to Hyrule’s head. There had been many of them recently; much of Hyrule had been damaged by Shadow Beasts in the Twilight Invasion and though the general population did not understand the cause of the darkness that had plagued them, nor of how it had been lifted, reconstruction was underway and requests for aid were frequent. There were bridges to build, roads to repair, homes to construct. All of it took funding, and Hyrule’s coffers were already starting to feel the strain. Still, she attempted to help everyone she could, though not without pushback from some of her advisors.
Ganondorf listened to the proceedings with interest. When she hesitated briefly following a request from a Goron representing Kakariko Village, a rumbling of amusement welled up within her.
Having money troubles, Princess?
She breathed deeply, focusing on the hopeful Goron before her. Kakariko had been particularly devastated by the Twilight, she reasoned, and her failures had allowed the corruption of the Goron’s Patriarch.
Have your predecessors already spent all the gold they stripped from my people’s temples?
“What?” she snapped.
The Goron jumped. “Uh – Renado said that we need –”
“Yes, of course,” she said quickly, flushing. “Your request is granted.”
“Princess,” muttered her head advisor from where he stood beside her throne. “Can we really afford to give this much to such a… small village?”
“It is granted,” Zelda repeated.
The subsequent brow furrowing told Zelda that she would be hearing about this later, but she felt little regret as she watched the Goron’s relieved smile. Quickly, however, her feelings turned to ice.
You don’t know, Ganondorf hissed. You don’t know what this country has done to me.
You didn’t exactly take the time to explain while you were trying to usurp me.
Rage flared within her; she grasped the edge of her throne as he clawed against her insides, fighting for control. Shoving him back down, she hoped her eyes had not changed. Soon he stopped, and did not speak again, though she felt anger for the rest of the day; she could not tell if it was his or her own.
***
She was sitting on a throne too big for her; the tips of her feet barely grazed the stone floor even as she sat nearly at the seat’s edge. She would grow into it, her mothers had told her, just as she would grow into the crown that was about to be placed on her head. Now they stood at either side as she stared out at her people, gathered before her. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Nearly everyone in town was present; it was not every day that a new king was crowned, after all.
She forced her nerves back as she was directed to stand. It is time to be strong. She was young, but she was king, and she would protect them all.
***
I failed. My only duty was to them and I failed.
These were the words ringing in Zelda’s heart as she woke from the dream. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. One slid down onto her cheek.
Do not cry, Ganondorf said coldly.
“Was that you?” Zelda whispered.
He did not respond, and for much of the morning remained quiet.
***
She continued to dream, more vividly than before he had awoken inside of her. Memories, his memories; they had to be. She was a young king at war; she was a prisoner accused with no evidence; she was a spectre lost to the darkness. Sometimes she woke with tears streaming down her face, other times she was so enraged she thought a fire had lit within her belly.
Stop this, Ganondorf hissed at her. These are not your emotions to feel.
“You tied us together,” she cried. “Do not put this on me.”
I had to. He thrashed inside of her, fighting for control. I had to.
He needed to make Hyrule pay for what it had done. He needed revenge; he had nothing left but that feeling.
What happened to you, Ganondorf?
***
How could she end someone who had embedded himself into the fabric of her very self? The question plagued her over the following days. Ganondorf was right; there was no body for him to return to.
She was a fool for destroying it. She may have been able to hold him back for now, but Hyrule was in danger so long as he remained within her, and now she could not do anything to him without also harming herself.
It was, she had to admit, a very clever plan.
Thank you.
She rolled her eyes.
***
She knelt in a throne room before a king. Even as she lied through every breath, her words filled her with shame and disgust.
“The Gerudo are… grateful, to be accepted into Hyrule’s embrace.”
It will be worth it.
“I can only apologize that it took us so long to see the light, Your Majesty.”
If I can find the Triforce, it will all be worth it.
What would her people think, if they saw her now? Kneeling before a different king. What a humiliation.
I will find the Triforce, and Hyrule will never be able to threaten us again.
A flash of green caught the corner of her eye, and she turned her head. Blue eyes blinked at her through a glass window.
***
“Who are they?”
What?
“The women,” Zelda said quietly. She had woken again feeling the desire to weep. Women danced behind her eyes: two elderly women, with wizened skin and whitened hair, a fierce warrior with painted eyelids and a gem in her red hair, carefree girls running around and laughing. “You dream of them often.”
Silence. And then…
What do you know of the Gerudo, Princess?
Zelda bit her lip. “Ages ago, they lived in the desert on the western side of Hyrule. Or so they say.”
They are my people, said Ganondorf. I am their king. Or, I was, before…
She saw chains in her mind, and a sword impaled in her chest. Nausea rolled in her stomach.
“You were arrested.”
Arrested, he spat, and for what crime? Thrown into the darkness for an eternity, strapped to the walls of a temple that was stolen from us, all because of something they thought I would do. And my people…
Her insides turned to ice.
What happened to the Gerudo, Princess?
“Little is known about the tribe that lived in the desert,” said Zelda, breathing slowly. Her heart pounded in her chest. “All records we have say… they left.” Even to her ears it sounded hollow.
Left, Ganondorf repeated, laughing darkly. The desert was our home. They would never have chosen to leave, not if they had any other choice.
Zelda swallowed.
You care for your people, Princess Zelda of Hyrule. I feel your love for them in every bone in this body. What would you do if harm came to them?
She thought of her city covered in Twilight, of the pain reflected in the eyes of the spirits there. When she had heard of Zant’s demise, there had not been any sympathy in her heart. And if Hyrule had truly…
“I would make whoever hurt them pay,” she said steadily, even as renewed tears glistened in her eyes.
Then you had better hope that the Gerudo only left, Princess. Because if they are gone… if I cannot find them again… I will burn this kingdom to the ground, and I will have you do it.
***
What did his words change? Nothing, she told herself. Even if Hyrule had committed injustices against him, she could not allow him to bring harm to her people. She had to find a way to remove and eliminate him – and to hide what she was doing from him, something she had even less idea of how to even begin doing.
And yet his words plagued her, and his memories even more. She could finally understand, she thought, how he had come to be filled with such hatred. She could not even blame him.
Zelda was not naïve; Hyrule’s history was long and filled with war and conflict. Her country, beloved as it was, was not innocent by any definition of the word. But if her ancestors had truly done this, driven an entire people from their homes, or worse…
I have to know the truth. And if what Ganondorf implied was real, she had to atone. She was Hyrule’s leader; if anything was to change, it had to start with her.
***
What are you doing?
“Searching,” Zelda said as she rifled through the shelves of Hyrule Castle’s library, skimming titles and back covers of book after book. As a child she’d always thought all the information in the entire world was contained within these walls, an endless treasure trove of stories and history. She knew now that Hyrule’s knowledge was infuriatingly lacking (how little she understood even now of the origin of the Twili and their mirror, and the interlopers who preceded them), but still, it seemed the place to start.
For what? (She thought she detected a note of apprehension in his silent voice.)
“History… Of you.” She swallowed. “And of the Gerudo.”
Why? His tone was pure ice.
“I want to find them.”
A pause. Have I scared you, Princess? She could tell the thought delighted him.
“Yes,” said Zelda. (It was fruitless to lie; he knew her heart now, just as she knew his.) “But that is not why…” She trailed off, focusing on the shelves before her. Books about the great lineage of Hyrule’s Royal Family, books about Hyrule’s religion and the Golden Goddesses that had supposedly made and gifted them this land, books about –
Ganondorf tugged at her so strongly that she had to pause.
Why?
You know why.
Tell me, he hissed.
“You are Hyrule’s greatest enemy and threat,” she said. “If it was Hyrule itself that created you, then… I have to know. And if the Gerudo can be found, I wish to help you find them.”
For a moment he said nothing; Zelda continued her path through the library.
You won’t find anything here, he said coldly. Hyrule is well adept at hiding anything that does not fit its godly image.
“You’re likely right,” Zelda said with a sigh. “What would you have me do?”
Surprise prickled through her; she could nearly feel him probing her thoughts, slithering through her heart, searching for signs of deceit.
He did not find any.
Take me to the desert, he ordered, though there was a definite uncertainty to it. (He had anticipated a princess who was hostile, who met his hate with that of her own. A princess who listened he did not know how to handle.) Perhaps there are clues that remain of their whereabouts.
“I can hardly abandon my duties now,” said Zelda, and he bristled. Of course her words had been empty, typical of –
“But I will try,” she continued. “Just – it may take some time.”
(Can she truly care? Ganondorf wondered. Or were his thoughts and feelings infecting her own?)
Zelda wondered the same.
***
When the time finally came, she did not speak.
She had raged, before, cursed and spat at them. “Is this what Hyrule considers justice?” she’d roared, to a king who did not quite meet her eyes. “To execute someone because of the fantasies of children?”
It had amounted in nothing. It did not matter that she had not yet committed the crimes of which they accused him. The Princess Zelda – the mouthpiece of the goddess – had seen in a dream that she was wickedness incarnate, and it was for the good of everyone that they put her down now. Had she not been trespassing on the lands of the Gorons and the Zora, attempting to locate their precious artefacts? That was all the proof that was required, it seemed.
So now she awaited death, and she did not speak. Sages surrounded her in the temple of her own people – the King of Hyrule was too cowardly to attend this joke of an execution, it seemed. She tried to take solace in the thought.
And then with the thrust of a sword it was over. All she knew was pain, excruciating pain, blinding pain, and then she –
She did not die.
Light flared from her hand, and she laughed as pain turned into power.
***
“That was the Triforce.”
He hummed. The Triforce of Power, gifted to me in my time of greatest need.
Zelda lifted her hand, examining the two golden triangles shining on its back. Power and Wisdom, trapped together in one body.
It occurred to her that she was likely one of only few people in history to ever possess more than one piece of the goddess’ power.
Does that excite you, Princess? Make you long for more?
“I…”
You are like me, he mused. Chosen by the goddesses.
“Is that what you think we are?”
I know. The goddesses made clear that it was not my time to die then. I am meant for something greater – I am meant to be king, and avenge my people.
“Perhaps.”
***
I wish to explore the Gerudo Desert. Zelda paced, silently rehearsing how she would bring up such an odd request to her advisors. It would be denied, she was certain. She could already hear the objections. It is too dangerous; if something happens there will be no heir. Hyrule is struggling enough as is without chasing ghosts. Why do you even care about something that happened hundreds of –
It does not matter what they think.
“Of course it matters. They –”
They are not the Queen of Hyrule.
“Nor am I,” said Zelda lightly. “The Twilight Invasion rather delayed my coronation.”
If you’re fishing for an apology you will not get it, said Ganondorf shortly, then, You are in charge. You have the power of the goddesses in your hands. You decide what is and is not going to happen, and then you inform them. You do not ask for permission.
Zelda paused, considering.
Show them the Princess Zelda that wielded light arrows against me. The Princess Zelda that held her head high, even while surrendering.
Zelda blinked. “I did not realize that you so admired me.”
Admire? he said angrily. I don’t – he cut off abruptly, perhaps fearing that she may be able to sense any lie he might say. (He did not regret tying himself to her; he would be dead if he had not. But he had not anticipated this… closeness.
When he became her, he would need to find a way to bar her from him.)
You are… stronger than you think, Zelda.
Zelda said nothing, concerned with how much she liked hearing those words from him.
***
Still, she could not leave immediately. She continued to see petitioners and review plans to piece Hyrule back together after so much of it had been damaged. The dreams remained, vivid as ever, and she continued to consider, in the far recesses of her mind where she hoped Ganondorf could not hear her, how she might remove him from her heart. So too he continued to fight her, struggling for control, though she thought his attempts had become half-hearted.
He hated her for what she represented, she could feel it intently, and she hated him too. At least, she told herself she did. His dreams; his feelings; his memories were all becoming a part of her and more and more she was beginning to understand. He was not some evil spectre who had emerged from the Twilight Realm as a trial for her to overcome. He was a man, and if he was wicked it was because his life – and her country – had made him this way.
Stop, he would hiss at her whenever her thoughts strayed too far down this path. You aren’t supposed to – to be –
You did this, Zelda would remind him, and he would fall silent.
She argued often with her advisors – about her priorities, about what rebuilding initiatives she was and wasn’t supporting, about her coronation that had still not been rescheduled, and increasingly about the fact that she still was refusing to entertain suitors, even more now than before the Twilight Invasion.
(She knew she would need to marry eventually, but the thought was less appealing now than ever. She imagined herself on her wedding night, some man taking her to bed while Ganondorf lurked inside, providing commentary –
Please stop.)
Ganondorf listened intently to these arguments. Often he provided unhelpful snide comments, but more frequently his remarks had turned into what felt nearly like advice. He too, it seemed, had led his people through hard times (her dreams frequently saw her as a wartime king, barely older than a child). And while his advice could perhaps be abrasive for her tastes, she could see the wisdom in it, and soon found herself with the confidence to say it:
“I will be travelling to the Gerudo Desert soon.”
Not a question, not a request. It was met with an assortment of protests. Zelda held up her hand.
“I will not be gone long, but this is something that I need to do.” She swallowed. “And I will be going alone.”
“Your Highness!”
“That place is too dangerous!”
“You have no heir, what if –”
Zelda stepped forward. “I understand your concerns, but I will be fine. I can take care of myself.”
They continued to argue; she was not sure they had even heard her.
Show them the Princess Zelda that wielded light arrows against me. The Princess Zelda that held her head high, even while surrendering.
She threw out her hand, reaching for that power inside of her. More, it was so much more than it had been before, Power and Wisdom together. Light began to shine from her hand, and the arguing subsided as heads turned to stare at her.
You have the power of the goddesses in your hands.
“I am the descendant of a goddess; is that not what you’ve all told me?” she said softly (she did not need to speak up, not anymore. Her words seemed to echo in the silent room.) “Well, I cannot say whether that legend is true, but I assure you I am not helpless. Or do you not trust me to be your queen?”
She surveyed the faces of her advisors; most of them were not quite meeting her eyes.
“No, Your Highness,” said one quietly.
More, urged Ganondorf. Give them no reason to doubt.
She obeyed, reaching into her power. She pulled, and the light became brighter and brighter, warmth flaring in the palm of her hand. The glow grew, stretching into a familiar elongated shape. Her fist closed around a shining hilt.
The sword of the sages rested in the grip of her hand.
How?
It is tied to me, Ganondorf whispered. To… us, now. (He hated that sword; the sight of it made his skin crawl. Yet he could not imagine using any other, not anymore.)
“Then trust me when I say that this is something that I need to do,” she continued, holding the sword at her side. “And I can protect myself more than any knight you would send with me.” The glow faded, though the sword remained. It was lighter than she would have thought of a weapon of its size. She swallowed. “That will be all,” she said, then turned and exited the room.
No one argued, though she heard the whispering that followed.
“I’ve never seen her like that before.”
“Did her eyes look strange to you?”
“Nearly yellow…”
She shook her head and moved forward.