((Disclaimer: The Zelda characters aren't mine, and I don't claim to have
created them.))
((PLEASE don't skip any chapters! Okay, so my chapter headings leave
something to be desired, but each is crucial! Thanks! *Child ))
((Oh, yeah, any reviews greatly appreciated, as this is my first Zelda fic
that I've published.))
DARKEST NIGHT
Zelda backed away until she felt a pillar press against her spine. She placed her hands on the cold marble, ready to push away whenever possible. Her cheek stung; had she a mirror she would have seen the red hand-mark that was developing. Intense blue eyes glared out at the Gerudo through a veil of golden hair. Ganondorf came closer, a smirk on his lips. He reached for her with a gloved hand for the second time, and Zelda spat at him. He cried out in his harsh tones and clawed at his face; Zelda darted across the room.
The curtains were drawn, and the evening sun lit the room through the drapes an eerie red. Zelda's face glistened in perspiration and tears. A large four-poster bed occupied one corner, and she and this were the objects of Ganondorf's intention. With a snarl he came at her again; she backed away smartly but came up against the wall. There was nowhere left to go. . .
Ganondorf cornered his prize, a look of triumph on his greened features. His red hair sparked in the light, and his eyes glinted with desire. He reached for her with both arms, and a pounding started in his stomach as he felt her wriggle under his grip. He laughed delightedly, tilting her face upwards with a hand in the crook of her neck and enveloping her mouth in a kiss.
"You beautiful creature," he purred, as she struggled against him, "Simply exquisite."
Zelda wrenched away, "Get your filthy hands off me, Thief."
"Thief? But of course, my Princess," murmured Ganondorf delightedly as he manoeuvred her towards the bed. Zelda noticed the direction he was taking and struggled all the harder. But the Gerudo's grip was strong, and his passion for her gave him strength. He tore at her dress until it fell in shreds to the stone floor, undressing himself with a few swift movements. Zelda was pushed down into what was to become a dark dark evening. . .
* * The two guards outside the door to the chamber knew nothing of this, and proceeded to play Pitch the Pebble through until the small hours, when one started to nod in sleep. The other leaned on his pike and sighed quietly. The corridor was becoming cold and draughty, and he shifted, clinking in his armour. A short glance wouldn't hurt, surely. . .
The guard gathered his courage and opened the door a crack. It creaked horribly, and he jumped in his boots. Silence. . . He pushed the door open further, and poked a helmeted head around the frame. His jaw dropped as he saw the scene. Fully clothed, Ganondorf looked up sharply, and with a roar leapt across the room, seizing the startled guard with one hand, drawing a short knife with the other. There was a short gasp, a gurgle, then silence. Ganondorf carried the body easily to the window and rolled it out; it fell with a muted splash into the moat.
Zelda lay flat on her back in the bed, helpless, and in shock. She had no other wish than to die at this very moment, but her quivering body did not want to obey her mind's urgent cries to throw herself from the window. Her stomach tingled, and she loathed the thoughts of what had just happened. Ganondorf stood by the window, silhouetted by the recently risen moon. In the distance somewhere, a Wolfos howled. Finally, the shock of what had happened hit Zelda in a rush, and she covered her face with the silk blanket and sobbed quietly.
Ganondorf turned from the window and stalked over to his Princess, standing like a Moblin beside the bed.
"You should be proud, Princess. Not many women have had this pleasure."
"I envy those who haven't," returned Zelda through her tears.
Ganondorf grinned evilly in the moonlight, "What choice did you have? None! I am King of Hyrule and no-one, not even that Fairy brat," he added, divining her thoughts, "will topple me!"
***
DARKEST NIGHT
Zelda backed away until she felt a pillar press against her spine. She placed her hands on the cold marble, ready to push away whenever possible. Her cheek stung; had she a mirror she would have seen the red hand-mark that was developing. Intense blue eyes glared out at the Gerudo through a veil of golden hair. Ganondorf came closer, a smirk on his lips. He reached for her with a gloved hand for the second time, and Zelda spat at him. He cried out in his harsh tones and clawed at his face; Zelda darted across the room.
The curtains were drawn, and the evening sun lit the room through the drapes an eerie red. Zelda's face glistened in perspiration and tears. A large four-poster bed occupied one corner, and she and this were the objects of Ganondorf's intention. With a snarl he came at her again; she backed away smartly but came up against the wall. There was nowhere left to go. . .
Ganondorf cornered his prize, a look of triumph on his greened features. His red hair sparked in the light, and his eyes glinted with desire. He reached for her with both arms, and a pounding started in his stomach as he felt her wriggle under his grip. He laughed delightedly, tilting her face upwards with a hand in the crook of her neck and enveloping her mouth in a kiss.
"You beautiful creature," he purred, as she struggled against him, "Simply exquisite."
Zelda wrenched away, "Get your filthy hands off me, Thief."
"Thief? But of course, my Princess," murmured Ganondorf delightedly as he manoeuvred her towards the bed. Zelda noticed the direction he was taking and struggled all the harder. But the Gerudo's grip was strong, and his passion for her gave him strength. He tore at her dress until it fell in shreds to the stone floor, undressing himself with a few swift movements. Zelda was pushed down into what was to become a dark dark evening. . .
* * The two guards outside the door to the chamber knew nothing of this, and proceeded to play Pitch the Pebble through until the small hours, when one started to nod in sleep. The other leaned on his pike and sighed quietly. The corridor was becoming cold and draughty, and he shifted, clinking in his armour. A short glance wouldn't hurt, surely. . .
The guard gathered his courage and opened the door a crack. It creaked horribly, and he jumped in his boots. Silence. . . He pushed the door open further, and poked a helmeted head around the frame. His jaw dropped as he saw the scene. Fully clothed, Ganondorf looked up sharply, and with a roar leapt across the room, seizing the startled guard with one hand, drawing a short knife with the other. There was a short gasp, a gurgle, then silence. Ganondorf carried the body easily to the window and rolled it out; it fell with a muted splash into the moat.
Zelda lay flat on her back in the bed, helpless, and in shock. She had no other wish than to die at this very moment, but her quivering body did not want to obey her mind's urgent cries to throw herself from the window. Her stomach tingled, and she loathed the thoughts of what had just happened. Ganondorf stood by the window, silhouetted by the recently risen moon. In the distance somewhere, a Wolfos howled. Finally, the shock of what had happened hit Zelda in a rush, and she covered her face with the silk blanket and sobbed quietly.
Ganondorf turned from the window and stalked over to his Princess, standing like a Moblin beside the bed.
"You should be proud, Princess. Not many women have had this pleasure."
"I envy those who haven't," returned Zelda through her tears.
Ganondorf grinned evilly in the moonlight, "What choice did you have? None! I am King of Hyrule and no-one, not even that Fairy brat," he added, divining her thoughts, "will topple me!"
***