Disclaimer for this entire story: I do not own The Legend Of Zelda. Not in any way, shape, or form.

CHAPTER ONE: MAIDEN FOR HIRE

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"Confound it, girl! Quit that gaping, childish grin and go about business like a normal hylian!"

The bellow nearly caused Brigit Andemede to drop her pot. Her content humming squeaked grossly out of tune in surprise. "But father," she began, drying her hands on her apron, "I-"

"You're driving me insane! Is there no job you won't give that empty-headed smile at?" her father, the stonecutter Gastel Andemede, despaired. "It's worse as is, being unable to find you a proper husband. This is the very reason- you have scared them all away!"

Brigit looked to the sun outside, and glanced down to the pans and pots she was putting away before answering the question. "Father, how would a smile scare anybody away? Things that scare are monsters and wicked men, not smiles of all things!"

"Don't argue with me, young woman," her father pressed firmly. "They find you… queer. Uncanny! Any normal woman would not sing songs while shoveling manure. Are you ever somber, or even sober?"

"I've not touched a drop of the drink in my life, Father, and you know that. Would you rather me be somber forever?" Brigit asked. "What fun would that be? As for me, I happen to love the chores and cleaning. They're wonderful times, to know that you are helping others with their lives! Why not be cheerful?"

"Confound it, girl!" Gastel cried in exasperation. "I have made up my mind! As you cannot impress yourself a husband, you must impress somebody else. You are nearly sixteen, Brigit! Sixteen! Only women in employment and royalty are unmarried by sixteen… Get yourself employed, and quickly!"

Brigit's green eyes grew wide in surprise as she put the last cup upon the shelf, but her smile never wavered. I cannot falter now, she told herself. I think this might be a large change in my life!

"Father," she began slowly. "I do all that is needed of me here. I clean, I cook, and I shovel for the cow next door. I wash your clothes, tend the fire, and mind the cat! I love such things; what else is there for me to do?"

By now the short-necked and tall man was definitely not within sane boundaries. "I do not care if you market that smile to men on the street, Brigit!" he cried, taking a pan in hand and casting it at her with an enraged howl. "Be gone by tomorrow! I'll have no more of that smile- it drives me mad!"

And with that, he slammed the door with enough force to wake the cat in the other room, earning a prompt and shrill yowl. The pan clanged weakly by the pantry, a new dent in the handle christened from the careless toss of anger. However, Brigit looked once again to the sunny window and to her work, finishing the last of her task.

That wasn't so bad, she told herself. It didn't hurt as much as she expected. But either way, she was at a loss of what to do. She couldn't stay in Kakariko- not with her father still within the town limits. And there was little else to go, since the new king had risen to power two years ago.

Her mother was alive, then. Her mother would have given advice, the sort of smart advice that mothers often give. Brigit's happiness for once faltered. Since the death of her mother, her father had been falling nearer and nearer to insanity. Her own smile, it was so close to that of her mother's… Brigit could not help but feel that she was the one tormenting the poor man.

So I must go, she concluded. But to where?

Brigit quietly left the kitchen and ascended the stairs up to her bed and drawers. She pulled out a camping pack and a durable burlap shoulder bag and began to pack what things she was sure she would need. In truth, she owned little for herself. Into the pack went clothes and tools for abroad. In the shoulder bag she set the few stories she owned from the booklender and some cloth to wrap food in. Carefully, Brigit removed her apron and hung it beside her bed, dusting off her skirts. Before she slipped on her most comfortable shoes, she took the time to tie up her brown curls in a kerchief to guard against a dusty road.

Arriving in the kitchen again, Brigit spied the peaky-looking, not-yet-grown tomcat she kept, lying somewhat lifelessly in a patch of sunlight from the window.

"Loki," she addressed him, stroking his dull and tattered red fur, "I'm going away. Father doesn't much approve of you… maybe it would be best if you were off too."

The cat, Loki, opened a yellow slit eye and stared at her casually. "Prrow," he said quietly and oozed like rusty syrup into the large, empty space of her shoulder bag. She felt him wriggle around into a comfortable position, peek his head out, and then draw back in to sleep.

"I suppose I am the one who gives you cream sometimes," Brigit mumbled. "Ah, it's for the better… I'll need the company."

She slipped the few rupees of her allowance into her satchel and was off into the street, to buy rations for what she expected might be a long trip.


The merry crackling of the fire on the hillside was welcome comfort against the darkness of the night. The night had been getting darker, she knew, since the rise of the usurper king. But the fire was said to repel the danger. Impa herself had advised Brigit so, so the girl deemed it safe.

In truth, after Brigit had come to her for advice, Impa had been at a loss. As pleasant as the girl was, Impa wouldn't wish that smile even on her enemies.

"Well, where are we off to, Loki?" Brigit asked her cat, giving the animal the remnants of a meat bun that she had packed. "I left in such a rush I didn't think at all. And Impa said nothing about destinations.

Loki, of course, said nothing.

"I know what father says," Brigit continued. "But really, I am sad. And a little angry. It's just that he doesn't understand, Loki. Being sad makes other people sad. And I don't want to hurt other people…"

Once again, Loki had no comment.

Talking to herself warded off the loneliness, so Brigit continued. "But still… where can we go? Maybe the old ranch on the hill will take us in."

No, she rejected. The old owner drank and slept his lonely days away in the village. Brigit doubted that the new owner was kind at all. She had heard rumors of the man Ingo's cruelty, and that was a place she was to avoid.

"We need money and a place to sleep, Loki. I don't think fire will keep the monsters away forever. But… I've never really seen a monster. I wonder what they're like?"

It was really all about her father, Brigit reflected. He had turned into a monster. Two years ago, her mother had passed away and the man had fallen into a funk the likes of which Brigit has never known. She tried her best to cheer the man, even so far as rescuing Loki from the trash to be a pet, but she had failed. As hard to believe as many would have seen it, Brigit was getting tired and fed-up with it all.

Yes, she forgave her father for being sad. But she did not forgive him so much for throwing a pan at her.

You'll come to a sticky end, young lady, he had said to her many times. You'll be caught and marched straight down to the King of Evil himself, and then what will a confounded smile be worth?

What will a smile be worth…?

After the period of silence, Brigit's mouth did upturn again. "Loki, I've had an idea," she said. "It's a little far-fetched, but it's just what father deserves."

"Prrow," Loki said.

"We're going to find out exactly what this smile is worth."


Brigit lifted up her skirts a little as she crossed the broken drawbridge under the gray dawn. In truth, she could hardly tell the dawn; the land seemed darker and dreary here. Her shoes splashed a little on the puddles as she stepped within the city limits.

As she took the time to straighten her dusty dress, Brigit looked up to the great shadowy blotch in the sky hanging overhead in the distance. Funny, she thought, when traveling with a purpose the sight didn't seem quite so ominous as she would have imagined. She had never been to the city or the castle; her childhood was spent in Kakariko only. Never before had she seen the boulevards and the square. Her mother had told her it was a fair place, bright and cheery and welcoming to all.

That was before the king came, Brigit knew. She dared not enter the lone shop by the gate, and the cobblestones were overgrown with vines and ugly weeds. The fountain was dry and dead trees twisted from where the must have once been full and beautiful, rustling mournfully in the ashy wind.

Several gangly shapes stood like statues in the square, motionless. Brigit cast a glance around. As easily as the castle loomed in the distance, there were several streets and she didn't quite know her way around.

"Excuse me," she said to one figure. "Could you tell me the way to the castle, please? I wish to speak with the king."

There was little response, besides a slight jerky quiver that resonated through its brown, leathery flesh. Brigit was not quite sure what this thing was, but she was not about to give up.

"Sir?" she coughed, tapping it on the shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"Unnnnnnngggghhh," the thing said, turning a flat, bony face to meet her. It looked horrific, Brigit remarked to herself. But at least she had gotten its attention.

She straightened herself out and gave a little bow. "Oh! Hello, sir! Can you tell me the way to-"

SHRIEK

The thing projected a piercing sound that caused Brigit to wince and her smile falter. It was beginning to advance now…

"Well! I never! Haven't you got any manners? Honestly- screaming at somebody you've never met… How rude!"

It was getting closer…

"Good day, sir!" she huffed and continued off on her way. "I'll find it myself!"

She exited the plaza with a whirl of skirts, setting off in the direction of the great castle hanging overhead. Back at the square, the Redead twisted it's head around in mystification, turning to it's fellow crouched on the ground across the way.

I thought I'd save her the trouble, it said. Better a quick death than anything the Master can come up with. It was a favor, my goodness! What are young people thinking these days?

Unappreciative, they are, the other one replied. Downright uncouth. She had better learn to have the sense to accept goodwill at least! What an impolite little girl!


"You want to- what?"

The booming voice of the big creature (A moblin, she had heard from Impa once) was ugly and gravelly. There was little intelligence in its eyes. Not that she could see the eyes- it was a good five feet taller than she was, so matters of height were a little problematic.

These are monsters, she told herself. But they didn't seem quite so bad. Sure, scary, but if she was able to manage to convince them that she was not edible, how evil could they be?

"Exactly," Brigit replied curtly, eyes edging over to the huge lake of lava that lit the scene red and orange. "I wish to speak to His Majesty. Is there any way to come to the castle? Or must I grow wings and fly?"

The great ugly beast screwed its snout up in confusion. This little pinkling claimed (very firmly, he added) that she was absolutely not tasty at all to eat, and she actually wanted an audience with… Him?

"You crazy?" it (he?) asked, with somewhat broken and deeply nasal words. "Why would you want to see him?"

"I come looking for work, and I have a proposal for him," Brigit said. "Would it be too much to ask to show me the way to him?"

"You do not understand," he said. "It is too dangerous. You say you are no enemy, but you are an intruder. I keep intruders out."

"Do intruders ask to come inside?" Brigit pointed out.

The moblin looked perplexed for a moment. "This is true," he said. "But you are a human-person. The Master has no allies that are human-persons other than the gerudo. You are not gerudo."

"I wish to be an ally," Brigit continued stubbornly. "You won't ever get any new allies if you don't ever let them in."

"This is also true," the moblin nodded, snout wiggling as Brigit guessed his mind worked. "Very true words, pinkling."

"Yes, yes," Brigit said. "Thank you. Will you show me in?"

"But still crazy. Master will burn you right to ash."

"I know," Brigit said. "But I would see him."

Once again the moblin looked mystified. "Crazy little pinkling, you are brave like a warrior. I will show you the way."

"Thank you very much, sir. I won't forget it."


Compose yourself, Brigit Andremede told herself as the huge door loomed over her. Its presence was impressive, and she could barely restrain shivers. From inside she could hear faint buzz of sound, quivering the black stone of the floor at her feet. Hesitantly, she removed her kerchief, dusted herself off, and tried to make herself appear somewhat presentable. The two huge moblins flanking her paid no mind, however, as the threshold swung open on curiously silent hinges.

It was not silent for long, as upon opening it a blast of music assaulted her ears: ringing and echoing like the roars and snarls of some huge beast. At the far end of the great hall was a massive organ, bellowing a nameless tune that Brigit was sure should stay nameless. The haunting, ominous melody vibrated her very bones, consuming and scalding like being immersed in lava.

She walked as quietly as she could as her two guards led her down a deep scarlet carpet. The music continued as if the player did not notice, completely engrossed in himself and his fell design…

Until she was within ten feet. The organ cut off sharply, mid-measure. Brigit jumped and swallowed her fear. Or, at least did her best.

It was then that the player began to move. He got up from his seat, straightening up taller than any man that Brigit had ever seen before. His deep violet cape scattered itself as he turned around to face her, looking down from up high like the sky would cast lightning upon the fields in the dry season, setting the grass aflame. He was not as massive as the moblins that had led her, but for some reason he bore… an aura… a radiant impression that he truly was far larger, stronger, and crueler.

Brigit all of a sudden felt very small as he observed her with such a burning stare. His eyes were like twin windows to a hellfire, more vibrant than even his bright flame-red hair. He was not handsome, but bore the hints of one who might have been in the past. But the most curious thing marring him was his odd complexion- dark and sickly as if venom flowed through his veins instead of blood.

She stood before the Great King of Evil, Ganondorf Dragmire.

At his glance the two great moblins dropped to their knees in a low bow of complete subservience. As the huge beasts beside her lowered themselves, Brigit's thoughts were suddenly jumbled and completely askew. She barely managed to give an awkward curtsey, due to the fact that his gaze was fixed completely upon her.

"Explain this intrusion," he boomed, though his tone did not sound outwardly angry. In fact… it sounded more amused than irritated. His face screwed up into a poisonous smirk that Brigit had never even thought could exist in all the world for its nastiness.

Then, she remembered herself, and smiled sweetly up at him.

"Good-morning, your Majesty," Brigit began. "It is an honor to make your audience. I have traveled long from the village of Kakariko to do so."

The moblins beside her looked to each other with horrified glances, and then to the girl they had escorted. Good-morning, they thought? Was she insane?

Yet, the King of Evil only seemed to smirk wider. "A maiden of Kakariko," he mused to himself. "An honor indeed. Tell me, what maiden of Kakariko stands before me today, and travels of her own free will to my court?"

"My name is Brigit Andremede," she declared, giving another, more formal curtsey. "I come seeking employment, your Majesty."

The air pressed heavy, the silence in the room deepening. For a moment, it was a standoff. The Great King of Evil's devouring grin ground harshly against Brigit's sincere, kind smile.

And then, all of a sudden, he began to laugh. It was the most sinister, ominous laugh that Brigit had ever stood witness to. She had heard tales of laughter so fell that it turned grown men in blind panic, and of a face that would freeze blood to ice. But though she barely could force herself to admit it, she suddenly felt that someone had stretched the tale along the way, because she felt no desire to faint or flee.

"Little girl," he forced out through maniacal hysterics. "I already have a harem the likes of which you couldn't imagine. I'm afraid I have no use for such a fragile spread of legs."

Brigit blushed deep crimson, but managed to control herself. "Please forgive my vagueness, sir, but that wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Then," he continued, smile growing, "What use would you present for yourself?"

Though she had the uncanny feeling that the man was forcing her into some kind of trap or hole, Brigit continued. "I will gladly perform any chore you give me," she clarified. "I cook, clean, and do any errand within my capability. As I passed, I couldn't help but notice you had little in the ways of house staff… if you wish it, I will take care of all I can."

His brow furrowed at this. Brigit for a moment was startled and afraid that she had earned his ire, but after a heartbeat she recognized that he seemed more bemused than wrathful. Once again the moblins exchanged looks, but said nothing. Stillness reigned over the awkward confrontation. The hour vaguely stood as evening from the sun through the webs of stained glass above, and made the scene only heavier with it's faint glow.

"You truly wish this?" he asked in an unbelieving tone as if he doubted that theinsect before him was sane. He had been convinced that this girl was a foolish resistance, becoming a martyr in the eyes of the people for the deed of mocking the king. Now, he felt an odd taste in his mouth. What if… what if she really was what she had said? What if… there was no ulterior motive?

Impossible, he concluded. There was always some hidden scheme. This girl couldn'treally have braved his monsters and endured his stare simply to become… a housemaid?

Could she?

"Yes, sir," she said modestly, bowing her head. "I am what you see. Do you accept my proposal?"

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes in distrust. "What would you ask in return?"

"Only a room in which to stay, reasonable pay, and a few days off every now and again, sir. You will have to forgive me- I have never sold my services before, and I have no fixed wage… though I trust you to be a decent man who will not cheat me. After all, you are His Majesty, Lord and Ruler of Hyrule."

Throughout this, her kind smile had not wavered and her tone had never traveled beyond respectful, friendly, and casual. It was unnerving to him, that thisinsect could ever withstand his presence… but he hid it and passed her off as either naive or simply freakishly cheerful.

Hence, he asked his final question.

"Do you do windows?"

"With the utmost pleasure, sir! Windows are my favorite!"

"You're hired."