((One shot, unless this gets enough requests))
Midna would be fine. The hero would protect her, bring her to safety.
What had he done?
He had acted in his god's orders. No...Be honest. He had acted in anger and hurt.
Zant stopped, staring at the mirror. His helmet glared back at him, a powerful Twili to be reckoned with. A powerful, brave, king of retreating inwards.
Reaching forward, Zant rested his hands on either side of the mirror.
His helmet retreated, he was staring into his own eyes. Eyes filled with cowardice, confusion, oblivion. He was like a child who had lost his mother. Trusting anyone who promised safety.
"I can't do this any more!" Zant screamed to nobody. He was alone. So, so alone. Alone in this world with nothing but his god! A god he truly didn't believe in.
Zant wailed his agony to the heavens, a true agony it was.
Its fires consuming his heart, bringing him down. Ensuring he would never truly be able to rule. He would never do anything!
He was spiralling into blackness.
Zant's tears which he managed to contain so well finally fell.
He stared into the mirror, stared at his greed-filled eyes. His father was right, Zant was not worthy of being anywhere near the throne.
"I can't stand to look at you any more!" Zant screamed, Pulling his hands back.
He slammed a fist into the mirror. It cracked, a few shards falling. He couldn't bear it.
CRACK!
He was a fake.
CRACK!
Nobody could ever truly respect him.
CRACK!
Love him.
CRACK CRACK!
Zant could see himself everywhere, his face reflecting the agony he felt within.
Sinking to his knees, Zant beat his hands against the glass-filled floor.
After a few minutes...Hours? Zant couldn't be sure.
Zant quieted his screams of confusion and hatred to soft cries of despair. Holding his bleeding hands against his chest, he brought his knees up to his hands and rocked gently on the floor.
"You'll get an infection if your hands are left like that."
Zant froze, turning to face the door.
Princess Zelda stood in her cloak, staring with pity at Zant.