Here it is, my first fanfiction, focusing on the Gerudo king after Ganondorf. His name is Kanorath, for no particular reason. The Gerudo were a really interesting people, and the idea of the next king always iterested me ever since I first played the game.

Disclaimer for awkwardness*

Yes, it's awkward in some places because I haven't set the point of view on Kanorath yet, I realize this and this is the biggest thing I need to work on. Later chapters will be styles much mmore naturally, but I always do setups something like this.

Please R&R, paying particular attention to awkwardness. Thank you.

No flames, especially no flames for the OC infestation.

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"Is this really the best vantage point?" complained the young recruit after sixteen hours of waiting. Her whines were met with annoyed glares and a hush from the captain.

"We need to wait until the time is right, then we'll strike. Get used to it, rookie," he said and crossed his arms.

The captain's words were short and blunt but got across the message, and took all the whine out of the recruit. She quietly turned her head downwards to hide the blush from both him and her snickering comrades.

Their leader was a well built man, medium sized with a stiff posture that commanded respect. His jaw was square, and he had a brown moustache that drooped past his lips, ending just at his jaw-line. The rest of his face was covered with a steel visor, which was part of the Hylian soldier's armour and uniform that all present wore. The little skin that was visible on his cheeks and chin was rough and red from the relentless sand, which had also settled in his otherwise immaculate moustache. His position was distinguished by the golden trim here on the edges of his plating.

The other soldiers were as restless as the recruit, but unlike her they had been on duty long enough to resist the temptation to complain. Their irritation and fatigue was evident in their lax posture, which didn't befit the knights at all. Their discipline was slipping. The sand, blowing lightly but constantly, had slowly worn down their bodies and spirits. One stretched, others leaned from foot to foot, or on their spears, but all still stood, though none had any inclination to stay standing at the time. The rigid form of their captain stood stark in their minds even when they weren't looking in his direction, and it kept them at least semi-alert. They held him in awe and respect, and feared him as well. His stone-cold reputation had preceded him, and he hadn't been chosen for this mission at random. He could get this done efficiently if the situation turned hostile, and not even bat an eye at it. They didn't envy their quarry's guard, if there was any.

The squadron stood there in silence on the plateau overlooking the desert in the unbearable heat of day waiting for the target, with no distraction other than the two scouts they had to deal with, and when they saw it their plan was to take action to capture it, not kill it. It was only a boy, a child, after all, and his death would be inhumane. They could afford mercy towards him, but this didn't mean they wouldn't take this mission seriously if others interfered. Most knights waited their entire lives before they got included in a mission so important, and as tired, and annoyed, and frustrated as they were, enthusiasm still glowed faintly in the pits of their chests, ready to flare up at a moment's notice.

They didn't have long to wait. As they restlessly stood, wondering how their leader could so diligently keep watch for such a long stretch at a time, faint laughter could be heard faintly above the whistle of the wind, and the captain raised a hand, signalling that their target had been acquired. Each soldier peered over the cliff edge to spy a small group of children running around playing, accompanied by two bored looking female guards to watch over them and keep them safe. They were both women with tanned brown skin, flaming red hair, and armed with glaives. They wore tight, silk, sleeveless purple shirts cut off at the midriff and matching baggy pants. One wore a veil across her face as well. Their beauty shook some of the male soldiers' resolve even further. The children were all girls, variously garbed, except one. He wore a black shirt and pants, as was customary for a Gerudo king. They all had the dark skin of the women and the same burning hair. It was the adult warriors that the soldiers were most wary of, and they would be the targets for their lance tips, but half a century ago it was proven that even a young boy could wield great power. This entered and lingered in the minds of a few guards, and as they all recalled who they were after, the new Gerudo king, and as the link between power and evil was made subconsciously in their minds the faint trepidation of this thought washed over the whole group, one by one, like dirty water rising up in a flood. The soldiers weren't as excited now as they thought they would be at the start of the mission as they all filed down the opposite side of the cliff to flank the valley at both openings, halberds in hands and swords at hip, or remaining in position on the plateau, taught longbows in hand, ready to let loose death showers if all else failed. Yes, this operation carried echoes of the Evil King, and even the most experienced were chilled to the soul with the thought of facing him.

Unfortunately, it seemed things were not fated to go as planned, which became evident when a scream broke through the children's laughter and conversation. One of them must have seen a idle archer, or a glimpse of his bow. While the infantry rushed with even more haste to get into position, a loud whistle shrieked from the direction of the middle of the valley, and female's battle cries were heard from a short distance away.

This happened too quickly for many of the clanking soldiers to register at first. Confusion paved the way for panic, and their hearts beat faster. They hadn't counted on being intercepted. The soldiers believed they were going against a new Ganon, and only this stopped the rising fear cold. Failure was not an option for them, if the restoration was to come to fruition. Blind loyalty, fear, and ignorance drove their legs to the valley entrance before the Gerudo reinforcements arrived.

When the captain's squadron reached the opening between the rocky walls, the fighting had already broken out at the other entrance. Metal clanged on metal, and both sides were fighting bravely, but the Hylians were quickly being beaten back. The Gerudo had the advantage of cavalry, and they knew how to fight on the rapidly reddening sand. The Hylians saw their comrades, the would-be-snipers, full of holes, dashed asunder on the rocks below by the expert Gerudo archers before any other fighting had begun. The new arrivals quickly got over their shock, drew their weapons, raised them uniformly, and with a loud battle-cry rushed in to turn the tide of battle. As they joined in, the troupe already in combat managed to erect enough spears to hamper the cavalry.

It was utter chaos: A steel clad warrior swung his sword upward, catching a Gerudo in the shoulder and knocking her to the ground. He quickly had to dodge a glaive strike only to be cut down by a lightning quick scimitar, while the latter two women were beaten back and killed in turn. There may have been more Gerudo, and the skill of the opposing forces was equal, but the Hylians had better armour, allowing each one to dispatch many before finally falling, bloody. Through this ordeal, a band of children was being led through to their would be rescuers by the original guards.

One of the girls tripped on a rock. On the ground, she looked at an advancing swordsman with customized armour to fit his gut, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Momma!" she cried, and covered her eyes. The guard without the veil turned, making a panicked noise, and jumped in front of her daughter. The man frowned when he met her opposition, but when he looked down at the little teary-eyed red-head his expression softened and his grip on his weapon slackened. He sighed and turned his attention back to his real enemies.

Once she saw that her child was safe, the veiled Gerudo turned around and helped her up and stroked her face, reassuring her. "Hush, Pir, you'll be okay. Mommy won't let anything happen to you," she soothingly said and smiled.

Pir stopped crying, but still snivelled a bit and hiccoughed, but soon smiled back. Her mother's smile was so beautiful, it seemed to make all the bloodshed just melt away. Pir's mother's loving gaze reached another fearful child in the group, but the boy stood back a bit from the girl. The veiled woman had gotten the rest of the children just about away in all of the confusion. When she noticed his patiently quiet, slightly grimacing form, she smiled at him, and got up, taking her daughter's hand and offered her other to him.

"Kanorath, you mustn't worry, my boy. I love you too, and I won't let anything happen to either of you."

At this a smile slowly rose out of the boy's grim countenance and just when it started to appear, the floodgate of emotion opened, and he grinned as only a young boy could. He was a handsome ten year old, slim, muscular, with short red hair and olive skin. His eyes were as yellow as a sunset over the ocean and they sparkled with love for this woman.

He put out his hand to take Pir's mother's, and just as their fingers touched, and she smiled even wider, but at that very moment the red blade of a dagger peaked through her lips, and blood spurted out like a bursting dam. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled without a tiny groan. Pir's shriek was as harsh as her mother's dying breath was soft, and it halted everyone's fighting for a stark second, before the girl crumpled in tears. Kanorath's hand was still out, trembling, and he slowly lowered it as he locked a death gaze on a heavily breathing man with a brown moustache and gold trim on his uniform, who was taking his sword back out after throwing the dirk. He calmly walked up to the boy and raised his visor, looking him straight in the eyes. The tension between them could have been cut with a knife. The captain had a white scar vertically across his right eye socket, where a milky glass replacement was inserted. They frowned at each other, and the older man cuffed Kanorath in the chin, then picked the dazed boy up with one arm, closing his visor with the other,.

"Retreat!" he called to his men, and they quickly tried to disengage. Some were cut down when they turned their heads, but most got back without much trouble, only to discover with shock that the Gerudo had used their own pincer tactic against them, and blocked off the other entrance. As the Hylians were quickly surrounded, they got in a circular formation, with their spears out and the captain in the center. He had Kanorath in one arm with his blade at the boy's throat. The stalemate was evident, and the only things exchanged were glares. The dust settled. Again the wind's whistle was the only audible noise, and all was still.

A Gerudo stepped forward. Her uniform was gold, with steel plating on it, unlike the other Gerudo. There still wasn't enough clothing to fully cover her dark, brown skin, though. Her hair was darker than average as well, and it was done up in her hair with elaborate braids.

"I am Nalice, and I lead the noble amazons you outlanders have attacked. Lord Kanorath is but a boy. You must return him to us immediately, or you brand your race as just a band of kidnappers. We Gerudo commit crimes, yes, we steal and kill, yes, but it is an abomination to harm a child," she shouted, pointing at the Captain. The captain fixed his gaze on her, no emotion evident in his expression.

"But you broke the agreement, wench. You are NOT allowed to have a king. We agreed on this law seventy-three years ago, when your tyrant master was killed. You didn't hide this boy well enough, and we found out. We'll always find out. Evil will never have the opportunity to rise again if the King of Hyrule has his will, and we knights are the hand that makes his will law. You will not throw this land back into chaos," the captain finished in his rumbling voice.

"This may be the case, but we will protect our king with our lives. To us he is a great blessing, not a curse, and we will lay down our lives to protect him, to protect the future of the entire Gerudo race. To this end I challenge you to mortal combat, soldier, and the loser's forces will withdraw without protest, keeping Lord Kanorath as they wish."

The captain stepped forwards, releasing the boy to a sergeant, and drew his blade.

"I agree to your terms, oh queen of whores. Let us make this quick."

The spectators formed a wide ring around their leaders, holding their breaths with fevered anticipation. Gerudo whispered to each other their shock that Nalice would commit to such a contest; that she completely agreed with Hylian's point of view, and that she wasn't alone in the belief that Kanorath would turn out to ruin the world as Ganondorf had for the Gerudo. The soldiers whispered as well, but they discussed how foolhardy it was for the captain to risk the mission on this gamble. They also feared being mowed down by angry women if they did win.

What would happen if their champion lost? This was the one thought in everyone's mind. Nalice stuck out her hand, which was quickly filled by a sword. The blade was a radiant silver, the cross-guard was the Gerudo symbol in red, the pommel was a red star, and the grip was black leather. The blade gently widened towards the weak, before one edge turned in to form a point. It was a beautiful blade, and the audience couldn't wait to see it in use.

The captain held his sword with both hands straight in front of him, while Nalice held hers horizontally with very bent legs, her other hand in the air. The captain waited patiently for his adversary to strike, and she did the same, but eventually it was her that attacked first. Nalice jumped in the air to bring down a heavy overhand chop, which the captain easily parried, but the moment her feet touched the sand, she was on the offensive again. She went for his calves with a sweeping slice, but her sword was again countered. With a flourish the captain spun and his longsword slammed in the spot Nalice just was, tearing her pant leg. He flipped his blade tip at her, and to prevent her neck from being sliced open Nalice had to block. She then tried to aim for the captain's wrist, but only hit his cross-guard, and gave him the opportunity to spin her blade our of her hands, in a sweeping arc to land in the sand at Kanorath's feet.

Nalice was on hands and knees, her face red with embarrasment of losing to a man in front of her people, her hands balled into fists. The captain casually walked over to her side and raised his sword, making it shine in the desert sun. He brought it down swiftly and truly, and Nalice's head came off, landing with a muffled thump. A moment later her body collapsed in the sand as well. Kanorath groaned with fury and tried to go for the sword, but he was instantly subdued.

"Well, you all heard the conditions of the duel. Away with you now, rats," scoffed the captain. The Gerudo paused, then slowly trudged off in silence, watched by the captain, who cleaned his blade indifferently. Their feelings off loss, defeat, and weakness were indescribable. They had lost their second monarch to the Hylians, and they were a nation broken. The captain picked up Nalice's blade with a calous smile. "This will be the trophy of our victory. I think we'll bring it to the keep with our young… Kanorath."

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I realize the sword thing was a little obvious, but... It had to be done. I wanted him to have a special Gerudo sword, and after much deliberation, this was the best way I could have it.

If it's unclear, I could do a prologue, but guarenteed it will be even more awkward, and things will become clear in the future. If a lot of people ask me to do it, I will, but progression comes first. I really don't want to though... Prologues are hard, eh?

~PlaguedByEarth