"The mythos of the Gerudo in Hyrule is as old as the race itself. Tucked behind a sparse stone fortress nestled deep in the bosom of their homeland, they have always held a certain mystique for the Hyrulian people.
"It's said that the eyes of all men were once mirrors. The Hylians who worshiped the goddesses of the sky reflected blue, and the humans' connection to the earth lent them brown, green, and hazel. But the Gerudo, they say, spent their days lusting after gold and the riches of others, and so their eyes turned to gold as an eternal symbol of their greed.
"Of course, there are many things said about the Gerudo, and few of them are very true. Some tell of their pagan goddess bequeathing the priestesses with the wicked power of the desert. The Gerudo are not human, they whisper, they turn to sand upon their death and choke the lungs of their killer. They can unleash the heat of their land by meeting a man's gaze. They can transform into snakes and have venom at their lips even in their human form…. The stories are foolish, of course. Still, I can't help but love the legends of the Gerudo's golden eyes."
He fixed her with that hot gaze, his irises swallowing her whole. His eyes were like jewels. Jewels filled with too many expressions to identify just one. There was sorrow, and there was also danger. Affection and agony, glimpses of memories and experiences culled from centuries of a life lived on repeat. Ganon had eyes as bottomless as his vitality.
"Though," she murmured as she shifted closer, taking his face to cradle between her palms, "I think I prefer my own myths." His eyes narrowed in question, and a gentle smile came to her lips as she wove her own tale.
"An old proverb claims that the eyes are windows to the soul. I say all men once saw through mirrors, and eventually, those mirrors came to reflect the people's hearts." She slid one hand down to his chest and pressed gently there. "The pious Hylians heard the wisdom of the gods and their eyes became blue with their knowledge. The humans warred, or they had the courage to stand up to those who did, so they bear brown and green. The Gerudo were not pious, nor warmongering, nor brave against either of them. But they were pure. They knew the world's hardships and the cruelty of the earth, and yet they prized it. While the humans battled and the Hylians prayed, the Gerudo cultured lives of joy and love. And so slowly, their eyes became gold. Their eyes grew to mirror their beauty, their value, their light.
"These are the eyes of the Gerudo I know. The people you fight so hard to avenge."
She shifted her thumb to sweep over his cheekbone. It came away damp, glistening like his eyes. The Queen leaned forward so their foreheads would meet. "They may be scattered, their bloodline and culture diluted to near nothing, but their proud eyes still wink at us from every corner of Hyrule. And some day, I know in my heart of hearts, they will return in a blaze of wonder."
Both were silent for a long moment, simply breathing each other in and feeling the warmth of another body pressed close. Aching loss spread between them, seeping from his body into hers. He breathed out the pain of surviving, and he inhaled her guilty regret.
"Not all that glitters is gold, my queen." His voice, so deep, laced with a solemnity heavier than the castle itself. Zelda looked down, away from her lover. Her eyelids slid down, shutting away the emotion her eyes would betray.
"No," she agreed. Her voice was strained with heartbreak. "But thanks to my actions all those centuries ago, faint glimmers will have to do."
"I'm sorry."