Edit: Cover picture can be found here: mike-hiscott. tumb lr .c om (slash) post/ 109645782092/ id-like-a-zelda-game-where-links-incarnation-just

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Story based off the picture by Exeivier. deviantart .c om (Slash) art/ Gerudo-Link-LOZ-187595088

"Ow-"

He bit his lip, struggling to mask his pain and praying to the goddesses his instructor hadn't heard his slip-up. Of course, he wasn't that lucky.

" 'Ow'?"

He bit on his lip more as the tall woman cuffed him upside the head, glowering down at him. She put a hand on her hip, the other holding the scimitar to her side.

"What have I told you? Countless, countless times I've told you. Do you remember anything I ever tell you, boy?"

The small redhead hung his head; his blue eyes, odd for his race, downcast.

"Showing weakness becomes weakness in the eyes of one's enemy and in one's own heart," he recited.

"Exactly! Now get up and do it correctly!"

The boy quickly got this feet and less than a second later found himself blocking the woman's strikes. Despite his best efforts he found himself pushed back. His sun-darkened skin still managed to pale a bit, knowing she would be very angry with him if he didn't manage to hold his position. Stubbornly he planted his feet, not backing up despite her advances. Despite his determination, he didn't last long and was soon back on the ground with her sword pointed at his neck.

"That was pathetic!" she snapped down at him.

"I- I-"he stammered.

"Don't avert your eyes! Don't stammer! Don't slump! Hold your head up and show strength! Have you no pride at all?! Have we taught you nothing?!"

"Ghaziya…perhaps that's enough for now. He's still young-"

"You coddle him, Aasfa!" the woman in white snapped, her sword still at the boy's neck. "How is he to be strong if we are lenient with him? When I was his age I had already felled dodongos on my own!"

"That was you, you were always more advanced than our sisters. Give him more time, he merely lacks experience."

"And pride," Ghaziya snorted, sheathing her sword and glaring down at her pupil. "Had I not birthed him I would question his Gerudo blood."

"He will be strong in time, sister, it is his fate. Our kings are always great, one way or another."

The white-clad woman snorted, striding past the one in green. She eyed the boy on the ground as he silently pushed himself onto his feet, brushing himself off. Aasfa approached him, scanning him over as he looked up at her.

"You don't seem too badly hurt."

His eyes averted.

"Mother is ashamed of me, Mother-Sister." He said quietly.

"Ghaziya has always had high standards. She was strict when she taught our younger sisters, having you has made her even less flexible. Her desire is only to make you strong, though perhaps so much so that she tends to forget your age."

"I am not that young," he said, frowning. "Tomorrow I come of age, I'll be twelve, an adult."

"Being called an adult and being one are two different things, Link-"

The boy twitched, his eyes widening a bit.

"Mother-Sister- we're in public-"

"My apologies, Kassim," she sighed, bowing her head a bit. "I meant no disrespect."

"It's…okay," he whispered, fidgeting with his fingers. "I- Mother will be angry if I don't attend to my chores. I should go."

She nodded and the boy headed for the stables to tend to his horse, thinking back on the exchange. Mother-Sister Aasfa had always been one of his favorites, she had cared for him more than any of the other aunts, aside from his own mother. Still, for her to address him by his true name in public made him uncomfortable. Mother always told him that his true name was for those close to him, in private only, that in all other setting his king's name was to be used. It didn't help either, that his true name was a very un-Gerudo name, a Hylian name.

As he entered the stables he absentmindedly brushed his horse, his thoughts still drifting about. Why a Hylian name? Granted, most Gerudo had Hylian fathers, on rare occasion a Sheikah one, but they never spoke of such things. Regardless of their sires, they were all Gerudo and only Gerudo. At least, they were supposed to be. He glanced around, self-conscious suddenly that someone was around. He knew he was an oddity, even had he not been born male. His long ears were not unheard of for Gerudo, he knew a couple younger sisters that had the distinctly 'Hylian' ears, but his blue eyes were even more strange. Some of his aunts told him they knew of elders that had passed with blue eyes, on occasion. Still…he couldn't shake the feeling that he was a bit less Gerudo than his sisters and aunts.

That didn't matter much though, at least so he told himself. He was coming of age tomorrow, he had to step up and take his duty as the king of his people. He had to be strong, like his mother was always telling him. He had to be strong and not show how scared he was. That part was always so hard, though. No matter how hard he tried to come off as powerful and intimidating, they always criticized him for being too soft, too 'kindly' and once even he had heard 'sweet'. Oh boy, did he have a hard time living 'sweet' down, his mother had been furious.

That night he lay in his room, staring up at the dark clay ceiling. The sense of unease he felt just couldn't be ignored no matter how hard he tried to sleep. That and, as of late, he kept having this nightmares when he slept. What they were about, he could never remember, just that they made him wake up in cold sweat. Of course he hadn't dared to tell his mother about that, she would chastise him for allowing himself to be unsettled by something like a dream. He sighed and turned onto his side, staring at the outfit folded on his clothes chest. The king wore black, the king always wore black. So there it was, the black outfit he would wear for the first time tomorrow, at his coming of age ceremony, when he'd discard his light-blue garb that all those yet of age wore. Was he ready for this, he wondered? Would he ever be ready for something like this?

He did not know it, but many were restless that night, his mother included. On the roof of their home she slashed furiously at the air with her scimitars, letting out her frustration. She had been at it for a good hour or so by then, so it did not particularly surprise her when her sister Aasfa approached her.

"It's well into the night," she said. "You should be rested for the ceremony tomorrow."

"I know that," Ghaziya snapped, lowering her blades but not losing her fierce expression. "How can I rest, my sister? He is not ready, he is too soft, too weak."

"He is not weak, my sister," Aasfa shook her head. "Soft, maybe. He is kind, perhaps even gentle-"

Ghaziya rushed her with such speed she was a blur of white, putting a sword to her sister's neck.

"How dare you insult my child!" she snapped. "He is not 'gentle'! He is not some pampered, spoiled little Hylian whelp!"

"I did not say that, Sister," Aasfa frowned, though she kept a calm expression, some irritation was beginning to show. "Being gentle may not be a Gerudo trait, but that does not mean he is not strong. Determination can weigh just as heavily as nerve. He is still young, he will mature into his courage."

"Bah!" Ghaziya sneered, turning from her younger sister. "He does not have time to be 'young'. He takes the throne tomorrow. I have not prepared him well enough."

"…You worry for him."

Ghaziya twitched, not looking at Aasfa but lowering her head a bit.

"There are those that would destroy him, you know that," she whispered. "There will be things he must do, things he must see, choices he must make. I…I fear for him."

Aasfa frowned, but said nothing. For a Gerudo to admit fear was an intimate thing, something only to be said to one close, to one trusted above all others. Aasfa knew the importance of her sister's confession, slowly coming up beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You have prepared him as well as any of us could, and you will continue to prepare him. Please, my sister, rest for now…there is no point in worrying when there is nothing to be done."

Ghaziya gave a short huff but sheathed her blades, heading back into the building.

Link had managed to fall asleep in the meanwhile, but his dreams were fraught with peril. He dreamed that dark clouds were covering the desert, then outward, over the fields and the lands that surrounded them. Over the volcano, the great river and lake, the kingdom he knew of called Hyrule, darkness covered all of it. In the midst of it all the wind howled and sand blew around him, buffeting him as he struggled to see what was going on. There was nothing but blackness, then suddenly he saw a ray of light. He ran toward the source, trying to find it in the darkness. There was a figure behind him suddenly, chasing him, a dark menacing form that pursued him as he tried to find the golden light. Then he finally found the source, a golden figure running toward him with hand outstretched-

The young princess of Hyrule jerked upright in her bed with a scream of terror, panting as she moved her golden hair from her face. That dream again, except this time she had almost reached the figure made of light, the one that had been reaching out to her…. She shuddered, hugging herself. The shadow behind her had almost reached her as well, though. It kept getting closer…but….that light, what was it? The light from the desert…

"Your highness, is something wrong?"

Zelda shook, looking over at the Sheikah woman that had appeared by her bedside.

"It was that dream again, Impa…it keeps getting closer."

The white-haired woman frowned, considering her charge's words.

"It does no good to fret over it in the midst of the night, your highness," she said.

"I know, Impa, I know but- but I-"

"Perhaps you are merely nervous about next week's visitor. That is to be expected, it's been more than twelve years since we last had an official visit from the desert tribe."

"Are they really as aggressive as they say?" the girl fidgeted a bit, uncomfortable at the aspect.

"Now, Princess," Impa smiled weakly. "It's natural that people are afraid of different tribes, however just because their culture tends to one thing does not mean they are all of that sort. There are many of the desert women that live in Hyrule now, you know. In fact the ranch where your favorite milk comes from is owned by a rancher and his Gerudo wife."

"O- Oh, yes…I- I am sorry, Impa, I will try to be less suspicious of others…"

"Good, many forget that as they grow; for now try and sleep."

"Yes, thank you Impa…"

The Sheikah woman nodded and took her leave, hanging by the bedchamber door until she knew the princess had fallen into slumber. She frowned, walking off down the dark hallway. The princess' dreams were not merely a young girl's anxiety, she knew this, though how she could not quite figure out. Something was coming, she knew, she could feel it. An unnatural darkness was creeping into their land, hidden as something benign. Still, she was doing her part, it was all she could do.

Though if not for the princess' dreams she would merely consider it to be the result of the atmosphere as of late. The meeting of the royal family the coming week with the newly crowned king of the Gerudo was to be a tense affair. Despite how the two kingdoms had progressed remarkably together since the age of the Hero of Time, tensions still existed between them. Namely it was the history behind the desert tribe, how the last time they had had a king, the man had attempted to conquer all the lands surrounding Hyrule and his tribe had assisted him for a good deal of it. How long ago that was now, no one was quite sure, historians debated over it. Still, everyone knew the story, and since word had reached of a boy born to the Gerudo, rumors, and paranoia, spread.

Impa frowned, looking to her side and out a window that emptied out into the dark night sky. There were no stars visible that night, even the moon's light appeared to be blotted out. It felt as if a heavy rain was to come. The woman hoped that it was simply a change in the weather and not a premonition of other things to come.

Link's arms trembled despite the determined look he forced onto his face. With some willpower he forced steadiness to his fingers as he laced up the white fabric that went over his gauntlets, the traditional pattern of their tribe sewn into them. With that done he looked up into the glass on his wall, tying back his hair into a small ponytail at the base of his head. He did not place any jewelry or ornamentation on, though he would be expected to later, should he pass… Well, except for the small golden loop in his left earlobe, the one his mother had pierced into him at his birth to mark his future role.

The boy-king took a deep breath and then stepped out of his room, heading outside into the courtyard of their dwelling complex. He met his mother at the door, who looked down at him with her usual scrutinizing gaze. Link stood tall but stiffly, desperately trying to mask his unease. Ghaziya scanned him and then nodded curtly, turning and pulling the curtain back.

"Go on."

"I- Yes, Mother," Link said quietly, taking a step forward.

"You can do it."

The phrase was so quick and flat, Link almost thought he had imagined it. He dared to glance up at his mother but she was looking ahead, ignoring him. Link frowned but stepped outside with his mother coming up behind him. All of his sisters and aunts were present, the few grandmothers their tribe had were present as well. The sisters, those younger and of the same age as him, sat along the rooftops or stood atop crates and barrels to view him. His aunts, those his elder, were gathered in a semi-circle around the handful of grandmothers, the elders of their tribe. Aasfa stood to the side, allowed closer than the others because she was the blood-sister of his mother, but all others stood at a respectful distance.

Link walked forward, sweating already. Usually his resistance to heat was far more efficient but a combination of nerves and his first time wearing the black were wearing down on him more than he would ever admit. He walked forward and took one knee before the grandmothers, the eldest of them coming forward. Grandmother Abia, who was so ancient they said she was already of age when the Hero of Time came to their lands. Apparently that had been longer than usual, according to their lore… The stories all said a male was born every hundred years, but Grandmother Abia claimed that to be false, she said the last male was born a few years before her. Despite how any would ask, though, she would not reveal her true age to them.

Grandmother Abia was a witch, after all, as many of their elders were. Apparently the corrupt-king of the times past had twin witches that attended him, who they say were centuries old when the hero slew them. So Grandmother Abia could be that old too, if she had that level of skill in their magic…

"Young one who will come of age this day," she said, her voice weakened by age but somehow still as commanding as Ghaziya's. "You will undertake the trial of our people and take your place as an adult among us. You will succeed in your trial or you shall die. That is our way, do you understand?"

"Yes, Grandmother," he said, as he was expected to.

"Then rise and undertake the grounds."

Link swallowed nervously and got to his feet, walking past the grandmothers and headed for the entrance to the traditional training grounds. The name was a bit misleading when it came to coming of age rituals, however it was expected that once a Gerudo was of age, they were to routinely complete the trials every year to hone their skills…so in a sense, it did become a training ground. The training for life, as his mother said…

His hands wouldn't stop shaking but he didn't look back, walking into the dark tunnel by himself.

Just making his way through the tunnel seemed a trial in itself. There was nothing but dim torches to light his way and the temperature slowly became cooler as hid descended deeper into the structure. His long ears kept twitching, making every slight sound, each scuffle of a rat or buzz of an insect into a threat to his imagination. He forced himself to control his breathing, to remain calm, to collect himself and save his adrenaline for when he would need it.

Suddenly he became aware of a streak of liquid down his cheek, he looked up, questioning, wondering if there was some kind of leak from above and then realized the drop had come from his eye. Link shook, bringing his fingers up to wipe the streak and then stare at the moisture on his fingertip. He was barely able to see it in the darkness, on his dark skin, except for the gleam of torchlight it caught. He trembled and shook his head violently.

No. No he would not cry. He would not succumb to his own imagination before he had even yet to find something truly dangerous. This was his coming of age, he would be strong, he would succeed and bring pride to his mother and all the sisters. That was the last thought he had before a stone slab slammed behind him, closing off his exit.

Link choked a bit and whipped around, pulling out his scimitar. His eyes darted around the dim chamber he found himself in, trying to root any threat out of the darkness. There was a flash of light on metal and he ducked and rolled to the side. The assailant, a lizalfos let out a shriek and turned on him again, slashing with its small blade.

Link had fought monsters before; his mother and aunts would take him into the desert or into the canyons to have him practice. He'd killed monsters before, his earliest kill had been when he had barely been able to hold a blade, though granted it was with his mother hovering close by. So really, battle was nothing new to him, it was simply the way of survival in their harsh land. Still even though he knew that, he always felt bad picking fights with wildlife. This time was no exception but as he dodged another slash he knew, as he had been told all his life, it was either kill or be killed.

He swallowed and when the beast made another attack he parried it, then counter-attacked with a thrust and slash of his own. The beast seemed almost surprised that his small opponent could fight back and its movements became sloppy. Link quickly exploited that, finding the first opening and thrusting his sword through the heart. It gave out a shriek and fell to the ground, flailing its limbs about like a child throwing a tantrum as blue blood shot from its chest. With another flash of Link's sword, it fell silent.

The boy panted, flicking the blood of his sword and wiping it off his cheek with his sleeve. In the dim light he noticed a flicker of metal on the creature's belt and upon closer inspection found it to be a key. With a resolute frown he took it and scanned the dark room for where he might continue forward. There was no going back now.