Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.

Since this AU of the AU quickly grew into a different beast entirely from the five small chapters I envisioned, I have decided to separate them from the "Tales from the Souls Universe"-entry. As usual, if you have not read the Souls Trilogy (Mates, Remnants, Secrets), then none of this will make a lick of sense. Also, I decided to rename the story to "Divergent Souls", to make it a little more distinct.

Divergent Souls
I

The letter crumpled in his hand as his fingers curled into a fist, so tightly that he could his fingernails digging painfully into his skin, which was still tender from the burn he'd received in the fighting days before. The servant who'd brought the offending piece of paper eyed him nervously, having not been dismissed and knowing from experience that walking away before the word was given would be punished severely. He did not know what the letter contained, but from his master's reaction it was...unpleasant. His lord breathed heavily, leaning against the wall, his focus so far away the servant doubted he could even see the carpeted hallway around them.

"My lord?" he asked after several minutes of anxious waiting, wondering whether he'd be punished for bringing him such bad news.

His master's eyes focused on the servant, his face turning stone-like in appearance as he consciously smoothed away any undignified reactions. Another few seconds were used for calming his breathing until it was controlled and, above all else, normal. He stood away from the wall, straightening up the slouch that had overcome him upon reading the letter. Not even a grimace of pain showed as the numerous wounds from the fighting underneath his fine clothing were surely stretched uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and blinked, his eyes no longer glassy.

"Leave me. Fetch a bottle of Lancerre from the cellar and leave it in my chambers. See to my guests."

"Yes, my lord," the servant said, thankfully scurrying away, relieved that no reprimands would be had.

He watched the servant disappear quickly, wishing dearly he had something to kill to make the ache in his heart go away, to disguise and lock away the part of him that wanted to rage and cry at the unfairness of the world. But Lord Kolvar Rinir was nothing if not cool and in absolute control of himself even in the face of the absolute worst nightmares that mere existence could conjure up. Even this. Even knowing that, two days earlier, his wife had died. The love of his life, slaughtered along with most of her guards, on the damn road like a bloody commoner who hadn't the wits or guts to protect themselves, like a helpless babe, a pathetic weakling, a...a...

He punched the wall as hard as he could, not caring about the dent it left or the vicious pain ripping through his knuckles, one of which split open. Blood dripped onto the expensive carpet, but he cared not.

Elia...his Elia...

Fifteen years earlier, he would never have imagined reacting this way to her death. Sometimes he'd even wished for it...or his own, for that matter. Anything to escape the hellish marriage they'd been forced into. But she'd wormed her way into his heart as he had into hers, almost unnoticeably and certainly without meaning to...and they had found something to cherish about each other.

And now she was gone. Dead. Still lying on the road if the carrion eaters hadn't gotten to her yet. He should have known better than to send her south. It was almost as dangerous as going east, these days, with those damn thieves roaming the fields like a pack of wolves. He should have killed more of them when he had the chance the week before. No matter, though...surely he would have another chance in the next skirmish. That is, if the damn coward on the throne didn't give in to the Gerudo's demands... No, even the king wasn't that spineless.

No, the war would continue, and he would take great pleasure in going into battle again and again, until the last bitch lay bleeding on the ground in front of him...preferably surrounded by dead Sheikah...not that they would pose a threat ever again, thanks to the latest ambush. The second to last female had been killed in that particular battle. Kolvar had seen it...and seen to it...

He opened his fist and re-read the letter, scanning the one line that had given him hope for his family's future. The writing itself was barely legible-the guard who'd written it was only just qualified to be called literate and made no effort to improve that particular aspect of his penmanship-but the meaning was clear as day.

The boy lives. Will escort him to the mansion once the road is clear.

Kerran was alive. That was the most important thing in the letter. His son had survived the attack, and was going to be home in a matter of weeks.

All had nearly been lost, in that single attack. He had lost his wife, but her work in shaping the next branch of the Rinir line had ended, so in time the pain would go away.

Or so he hoped.

"Papa?"

The voice was small, almost pathetic in its nervous pitch with an undertone of hope. Kolvar concealed the fright it had given him and turned around. The girl had become increasingly adept at sneaking up on him, and he didn't like it. It reminded him too much of those damn shadows. He glared down at her.

"You're supposed to be in bed," he stated gruffly.

"Heard you shout," she muttered, gazing up at him with wide eyes, clutching her stuffed animal toy like it would protect her. She always did that around him. It drove him insane. Why couldn't she speak and act like a proper person? It only made it even more difficult to find her a future suitor.

Elia would disapprove of the way he handled her. She always did. But his wife had never truly understood the importance of heirs and why it was paramount the first child in any noble marriage be male. Anything else was...unacceptable. And yet he'd been saddled with this snivelling child. Sometimes, he even wondered if she was truly his. The facial similarity was too great for her to be anything but, of course, but sometimes he wished...

"And?" he asked. "How does that give you permission to leave your room? You are not to roam the halls unless going to or from your room!"

She didn't answer, fidgeting uncomfortably under his gaze. Surely Kerran would not act like this when he grew older? He would be like his father, proud and strong, able to meet any disapproving gaze with a glare that would send the Gerudo running for the hills. His daughter, however...she'd inherited Elia's demeanour, it seemed. Handling confrontation simply wasn't in their nature. Not surprising, of course. Hylian women simply didn't have the guts for it. None of them did.

He was about to admonish her when the nanny came through the door, looking positively frazzled. She spotted the girl and scowled. "Akia, there you are! I've been worried to bits!" She paused when she spotted Kolvar, eyes widening. "A thousand pardons, my lord!" she cried. "I lost sight of her for but a moment, and she was gone!"

He glared. "Is there a reason for why my daughter is still awake at this hour?" It was nearly midnight, for goddesses' sake! "I am paying you to mind her, not give in to her whims."

"She could not sleep, sir," the nanny replied, picking up Kolvar's daughter in a tight grip, ensuring the girl could not escape once more. "The guests...there is a lot of noise."

Kolvar scowled. True, his inner circle was hardly quiet once the wine began to flow, but honestly! "Then I suggest you find a way to put her to sleep despite it," he practically growled.

"Yes, my lord." What else was there to say in the face of a noble's anger? It was either that, be let go...or worse. One never knew with nobles, after all.

"Now, I expect no more interruptions from her tonight," he said, tossing a glare at his daughter, who seemed to shrink in the nanny's arms. "Even if I have to lock her door from the outside."

"It will not happen, my lord. I swear it."

"Hmph," he grunted. "I highly suggest you learn how to calm her. Her mother won't be around to do it anymore."

Whether it was from surprise or from the way he chose to deliver how to deliver the news, he did not know (probably a combination of both), but the nanny's mouth fell open all the same, eyes wide with shock. "Lady Elia...?" she asked quietly.

"Is dead," Kolvar finished, ignoring the twinge in his chest from saying it. The sooner everyone got past it, the better. "Killed by the Gerudo. My son survived." A loud roar of laughter came from the other end of the hallway, from the comfortable sofas and burning fireplace in the second parlour. His guests were getting rowdier by the second, and if he was to successfully broach the subject he had in mind tonight, he would have to get back to them before everyone was too drunk to remember it the next day. "Now, I must attend to my guests." He made to walk away, but his daughter's quiet voice stopped him once more.

"Mama's...dead?"

Tears were already gathering in Akia's eyes, and Kolvar could not help but sneer. Four years old. Surely it was time to stop crying? "Yes, she is. Your mother is gone." He looked at the nanny. "Put her to bed, and make sure she stays there this time."

The nanny hurried away with Akia in her arms, and Kolvar ignored his daughter's cries, deciding to focus on his speech to his inner circle...and trying not to imagine the nightmares that would haunt him that night. Elia was gone. Dwelling on it would not help. And what else could he do to honour her memory than by raising their children to be strong? Akia would learn, along with Kerran, that one needed to be hard to survive in this world.

Yes, that would be the legacy he left behind. That would be House Rinir's reputation.

He halted on his way to the second parlour, stopping by their-his, now-chambers. The servant had been diligent in his service, as was expected of anyone in his household. The bottle stood on the nightstand by his side of the bed. It was strong stuff, usually meant for small sips at the time. He uncorked the bottle and took a huge swig, focusing on the burning in his throat. Another three swigs were needed before he felt the jittering in his chest go away, replaced by the warm haze of slowly approaching inebriation. He'd have time to pitch his plan.

Steeling himself, he left his chambers and headed for the parlour, plastering his best fake cheerful mask on his face as he entered. "Gentlemen," he announced, drawing every eye in the room to himself. Together, they represented nearly half of Hyrule's military strength. They could not fail. "Regarding the Gerudo: I have a plan..."

To be continued...

Father of the Year Lord Rinir is not.

I wanted to see what would happen in a timeline where Link isn't the Hero of Time, and that the whole war with Ganondorf went a little differently than it did both in the canon Ocarina of Time and my insane AU of it. Needless to say, this story is not canon to the Souls stories. Just an interesting little series of what-ifs, really. Hope you enjoyed the first one!

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