A/N: This was something I came up with while talking Twilight Princess with my friend Matti, and decided to post here on the principle of 'why not'?
I don't own the Legend of Zelda.
Once upon a time there was a land called the Twilight Realm, hidden between day and night, up and down, east and west, nowhere and everywhere. This land was inhabited by a proud, fierce people called the Twili; and the Twili were ruled by a strong and cunning King.
This King had a son. His name was Zant.
Now when Zant was born everyone was quite sure that one day he would be King of the Twili. And when Zant was old enough to know his own name and station he was similarly sure. He was a smug little boy, feeling secure in his greatness of station. He was the Twilight Prince, and he looked forward to the day when he'd rule over all the Twilight.
His life would have been perfect, except for one thing. His cousin.
Being noble, Zant had very many cousins of various ages, but the one that was a particular burr in his side was a girl a little younger than him. Her name was Midna, and the reason why she was so troublesome to Zant was simply because she was better than him. At everything.
Zant struggled with his arithmetic and spelt cat K-A-T-T. Midna finished her own lessons in minutes and then offered to fake Zant's handwriting and do his work for him; he was too proud to accept her help, but he felt gloomily certain(and he was right)that she would have completed his work easily in perfectly forged writing had he accepted her offer.
Zant fumbled with magic, struggling to perform the simplest spells without messing up. Midna lit fires and summoned lightning with a thought, never mind a word, then threw up stones in the air and made them fly around the palace and pelt themselves at people she disliked.
Zant couldn't even use a practise sword without cutting himself and sustaining several impressive bruises. Midna was grace embodied with live steel in her hand, as a true lady of the Twili should be, swift and deadly.
Zant was-well, the best anyone could call him was 'plain' and the ladies of the Twilight court(including his own mother)would sigh over him and describe him as 'distressingly homely'. At least as Twilight Prince he'd probably be able to marry a woman who cared more for his rank than his face, they'd continue; those same ladies fussed over Midna delightedly, the sweet little red-haired girl who would surely grow up into such a beauty one day!
Zant was unable to come up with a single original or effective plot. Midna came up with devious schemes that would curdle the blood and leave the mind stunned in amazement at her ruthlessness and intelligence.
Midna, in short, was better than Zant in every way that the Twili people favoured. And she knew it.
At least, Zant thought, I am higher-ranked than she. When I am King I shall be able to order Midna to do anything I like, and she'll just have to obey me! And with this thought he comforted himself; and so the years rolled by. Zant grew to a young man, and Midna to a young woman; yet he never managed to come anywhere near equalling her, in any field whatsoever.
One day, though(or night-or neither, for day and night were one in the Twilight Realm)the Twilight King called a great audience. All the nobles and courtiers of the Twili were present, in the great hall of the grand Twilight Palace.
"As you all know," announced the King, "I am getting old; and an old monarch is a weak one. Were I to lose the strength of my sword arm to age, or the strength of my mind and my magic to senile imbecility, what would become of our people? The time is nigh for me to step down from the throne; but I would make sure that my successor is my equal, and can fully bear the burden of rulership as I myself have done. I have very much affection for my son Zant-"
-here Zant puffed up with pride and waited complacently and cheerfully for the honour his father was surely about to bestow on him-
"-but unfortunately," the King continued, "he is lacking in the necessary qualities of kingship. A weak young king is no better than a weak old one; in fact he is markedly worse. With this in mind, I have made a decision; an unorthodox one, but one that I am sure will be approved of. I am lucky to have in my niece the lady Midna a woman of considerable accomplishment, and I declare now that she shall be and is my true heir, the Twilight Princess; in due course she will be Queen and I am sure that she will rule well and wisely-"
The King said more, while Midna smiled demurely and came up to the dais to make her curtsey in front of his throne, but Zant heard none of it. He fled from the hall as fast as his feet would take him till he collapsed shrieking on the balcony; he wailed and whined and banged his fists against the stone until they bled; in short, he threw a colossal tantrum.
And as he screamed and cursed, he slowly became aware that someone was watching him; tears staining his face, he lifted his head to look and saw-