Timeless
I wrote this for the Knights of Fandom contest called the tournament of arms on tumblr. It's a really neat group for fans of all different fandoms who are against cyberbullying. Here is a link to the account: and the blog for the rules for the contest: post/40277865498/welcome-to-the-2013-knights-of-fandom-tournament
This is based off an idea that I had of Link being the one is never reincarnated but remains the same instead of Ganondorf.
He always came when he was needed, when the Calling was ringing in his blood like bells. It moved him to restlessness and agitation. Sometimes it would find him stirring from a long slumber underneath ancient hills with vines twined around his wrists and ankles. Other times it found him in some distant land playing savior and hero to another people. Always though no matter where he was, his feet carried him to where he was destined to be.
When he went walking through Hyrule Field, he might come from the woods or a small town on the outskirts of the kingdom, and he might disguise himself as a child or a teenager on the edge of manhood. He could have chosen any age he wished, but he found that youth suited his needs best. It made people more eager to trust him and his enemies more likely to underestimate him.
For this particular turn of the Cycle, he had decided to come as a young man of seventeen summers from a fishing village on the backwaters of the Zora River. He told them that he had been taken in by a local fisherman as an apprentice as a young age. He was always an orphan no matter what time he occupied. The hero could never bring himself to imagine a lifetime where he had parents. The very idea of someone taking care of him was so foreign to him that he had never truly considered it.
The other Bearers were young this time as well. Zelda was barely a woman but beautiful to behold. This did not surprise him. He had seen her in the spring of life many times, and each time she was lovely and regal. Ganondorf was only a year or two older than the age that Link presented himself, which took the hero aback some. Often he was called when the Gerudo was a man in the middle of his life with scars and experience that aged him more than the years ever could.
Link had come to Castle Town under the guise of wanting to earn himself a knighthood and a place in the Princess's guard. His skill with a sword had gotten him past the qualification rounds and into training. The city had been abuzz with the news of the latest royal guest from the West when he arrived.
A great, big man from the Desert they said with eyes like a cat's and skin dark like freshly tilled soil and hair the color of spilled blood. Link had watched him carefully when he presented himself to the Princess. He was a swaggering, arrogant, cock-sure young man, but there was as sly a glint in those golden eyes as there ever had been. The Hero had felt his old animosity rise like the hackles of a wolf. The Gerudo had presented himself to the Princess, and she had accepted without hesitation. Link had to keep himself from flinching when she invited her enemy into her castle as an honored guest. Sometimes he had to remind himself that they were young and did not know the things he did. Their lifetimes were only echoes of memory that surfaced in dreams or visions. They could not yet know or suspect of the long held bloody grudge between them though he imagined it would happen soon. The Bearers always somehow managed to set the tiles into their proper pattern.
But it did not happen as he had expected, not this time. In Turns past, he could have predicted the way of things would go down to the last detail. He knew the dance that Ganondorf, Zelda, and he would take part in, and what steps they would make before their heels ever touched the ground. This time the Bearer of Wisdom harbored no suspicion or ill will towards her inevitable enemy, and the Gerudo seemed almost fond of her.
Link worked his way into their graces as he climbed the ranks of the soldiers and guard. He made the position of captain as he had done many times past. He hovered near Ganondorf to keep an eye on him, and both the Dark Lord and the Princess found his presence amusing. They mistook his vigilance for friendship. All the better, he told himself. He could keep an eye on them more easily as he waited for their destinies to unfold.
He joined them when they went riding out in the countryside. His presence allowed them to slip free of their retainers and guards and enjoy the rolling hills of Hyrule Field. Link would watch in silent anticipation as Ganondorf's eyes swept over the great expanse, and he clearly read the lust shining in those hawkish eyes. It was waiting, buried however deep, it was waiting to spring forth like a trap well laid.
Without the court forcing them to keep decorum, Zelda would sometimes challenge Ganondorf to a race on his huge, black charger, and he would, of course, oblige her. The Hero would then go galloping after them, never knowing when things might turn and Fate reveal her hand to him. Any moment the wind might change, and things go the way they always did. He could feel it building at the back of his mind, making the nape of his neck tingle. It was like the coming of a storm, all thick, billowing clouds that made the sky black as night. He could almost smell rain on the wind and feel the sizzle of electricity in the air.
Once when he caught up to them Ganondorf had turned in his saddle to watch Link's approach. He appeared impressed and a bit shocked. He usually won the races and left Zelda wallowing in the dust of his wake though he did allow her to overtake occasionally. The big man looked Link over from cap to heels. "You ride well," he had murmured as he gripped the reins in his hands, "for a Hylian."
Link had only nodded in appreciation and given a smirk.
Zelda had spoken up then as she approached them on her light-footed little mare. "Here's a sight I never thought to see."
"What is that?" Ganondorf had asked, raising one eyebrow.
"A jackass riding a horse," she had sniffed in answer, obviously not caring for Ganondorf's remark towards the equestrian skills of her countrymen.
The air around them had thickened with tension as Link stiffened every muscle in his body in preparation to come between the man and woman. Ganondorf had never suffered slights from anyone and certainly not Zelda. His muscles trembled as he awaited for some action, a hand to lash out or a spell to be spoken.
Instead, Ganondorf had done the most unexpected thing. He had thrown back his head and laughed, deep and long. With one huge hand, he had reached out and clapped Zelda on the back so hard she had almost fallen from her saddle. "I forget what a sharp tongue you have. I thought only my sisters had such," he had commented before they rode back to the castle.
It was then that the slow descent of Link's heart began as the storm started to churn.
There were many evenings like that where the three of them shined in unexpected ways. Ganondorf was arrogant but he had a cunning sense of humor about him as well that Link grew to appreciate. He often joked with the soldier about the Hylian nobility as they fluttered around this Zelda as they had done around so many other Zeldas. That at least had not changed. The Hero never said much for Ganondorf liked to talk, and Link found that he liked to listen. Zelda would stare at them enviously as she was flattered by her various sycophants hoping to get into her good graces. The Gerudo would get a good chuckle from her misery, and then offer her political advice. He had a sharp mind for such things, and already Link could see it being easily turned against the Hylian girl.
The worst moments were when it was just he and Link. They often found themselves isolated as mutual outcasts at court. The Hero as always was seen as the Princess's charity case. The nobles looked down their noses at him as if he were something they had scraped from their boots that had suddenly decided to stand up and talk to them. They treated Ganondorf no better. He was the savage who might at any moment revert back to his normal bestial behavior and carry off and rape their wives and daughters. Once, Link had thought the same of him when he had only known him as a bitter and enraged old man. He wondered if perhaps he had always started out like this in every life time, and it was instances like this that turned him into that madman. The knight did not care for such a thought. It went against everything he had ever known and every instinct he possessed.
Some nights the Gerudo did seem to live up his barbaric roots and wished to camp outside the palace walls in the open fields. Oftentimes, he asked Link to join him. The Hero agreed all too easily for even after all these centuries he found city walls stifling. They would make a fire and sit around it underneath the stars. Link would catch them rabbit or pheasant or squirrel, and Ganondorf would remark on the strange taste of the meat.
The Gerudo talked of home many times with a wistful longing that made Link's stomach twist. It was during these conversations that Link wished he could calm the fever in his blood and crawl back under a hillside to sleep for another hundred years until things returned to how they were supposed to be.
"Have you ever seen the Desert?" Ganondorf asked once.
Link had to had pause before answering, thinking back on how he had seen the people of the Desert rise and fall over the centuries like the tides of the ocean. "No," he had finally answered.
"Pity," the Gerudo had said as he tossed another log on the fire and sent up a flurry of sparks, "it is beautiful in its way with the sun and the hard blue skies set against the dunes."
Link recalled the vistas he had seen of the sun rising over the golden sands and hammering everything into bronze. "I can imagine."
Ganondorf had smiled. "And the women there are the most beautiful in the world, but . . . " The sentence had never been finished as Ganondorf had let his smile falter and ducked his head to hide his embarrassment.
But Zelda is more beautiful, he was going to say Link knew, and the Hylian had felt so sick at the realization that he had gone for a long walk in the cool night. So that was how it would play out this time. Not for land or gold or a throne would this Ganondorf start a war but for the heart of a woman he could not possess.
Link had then walked back to the fire and sat down. The Gerudo had seemed to be stunned into exhaustion by his almost spoken confession and claimed it was time to sleep. Sleep had not come for Link that night or almost any night after. He had laid awake staring at the stars as old and timeless as himself who had seen as much, perhaps more.
Then he had looked over at Ganondorf sleeping on his side with his back to him and his breath caught in his throat and doubt entered unbidden for the first time in forever. He realized that he liked this young Ganondorf despite him being a braggart and far too sure of himself. Link's fingers fisted tightly in his blanket as he shut his eyes against the traitorous thoughts. It was a pity he was going to have to kill him.
Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of it. I couldn't help but include a hint of zelgan in there. It seems to always work itself in no matter what I write.