The grueling war was over, she said; She was wrong, he knew it, he had always known it. He had lived through seven whole generations and lifetimes, and in each he had seen the atrocities the Gerudo had committed. The rapes, the pillages, the thievery, the torture; the arrows pelting his men in their backs puncturing their lungs, children being run through by spears and women set aflame were just some of the horrors he had witnessed in this war; it got so bad that he had to use Epona to carry home the defenseless and the weak. Above it all, the man who was responsible, Dragmire, was calmly sitting in a jail cell waiting to be freed, his group of loyalist schemers signing the document of falsehoods.
The very queen that had begged him to serve under her and lead the charge; to bear the front of the heavy battles against the monstrous hordes, to be slammed with mass casualties; was now calling for an alliance. Calling for an end to the bloodshed, has she forgotten their silver tongue? He looked around from the balcony stand, he could see his people, the ones who had fought beside him, the civilians he had protected and those who sacrificed much to get their troops to victory; even letting them partake of their meals and shelter them from the brutes knowing full well the danger it could have brought. He saw dissent, mutters of distrust, fear, anguish, loss, it was all there behind their eyes, they sympathized with his thoughts: the Gerudos would slowly dominate and discriminate against the Hylians until they were the minority and until they were extinct, they would plot, they would slit the royal family's breath right out from their necks and gorge themselves on the extremities on which massacre had brought, because they were monsters.
He begun to reminisce at the familiar faces in the crowd, he knew these people, he shared memories with them, he cried with them, he laughed, sung, drank, and protected them; every one of them were like family to him; he cared for each one of them with a fiery zeal. The desert dwellers had no morals, no compassion, no civilization, no humanity; they would slaughter everyone here without a care in the world! He turned to look at his princess, the one who he had grown over years to admire, her beauty and wisdom. But now all he could see was rot, ugliness, betrayal; and with that his mind warped back into reality as the speech concluded. "We must look forward to a new age of prosperity, this treaty shall finally put this ancient rabble behind us; we must be tolerant to one another, but above all we must be kind and open if we are to trust each other…" she spouted. He looked down at his side, the emerald ensemble he had worn…The Master Sword, blade of evil's bane…The mark of his courage rang true, and with it he was reminded of his duty…He must vanquish the Evil from the land at all costs, no matter the sacrifice.
How could she talk of tolerance and trust when most of, many of the deceased were innocent Hylian folk slain inside their houses at night during their raids? Mockery. Surely the Gerudo did not repent, he had seen them in the battle, holding high the carcasses as if they were celebratory trophies! He stepped forward, his hand shaking, as she called his name; her lovely, gorgeous voice calling out his name. He stepped up beside her, her smile seemed tiresome yet radiant, "Would you like to say a few words General Winthrop?" For fourteen whole seconds, he could say nothing; he stood there idly, gawking at her. Finally, he licked his lips and nodded. Time seemed to stop, Link had swung his sword gracefully, wounding her side deeply, enough to ensure that she bled out within the hour if untreated and she could not stand. The crowd was stunned, some shocked and some saddened, but none were fearful, they knew that their Hero would save them, there had to be a reason for the general's action. Link Winthrop began his speech.
The guard carried the wounded Princess inside, setting her carefully down onto the chair opposite of her attacker. Bookshelves layered the walls beside them, bordering the small room scattered with antiques. The fireplace was cozy, lit and warm. It would have been a lovely time had the circumstances been different. He sat there, silently, legs crossed. He did nothing but stare at her wound with child-like confusion, as if he was trying to understand what he had done; he knew of course what he'd done, Link never swung his sword without a purpose. She spoke up, faintly, and but one word dripped from her lips, "Why?"
He didn't like that look, not one bit. His partner, lover, and eternal friend staring at him with panic, worry, and horror…His nerves kicked in and his fingers started shaking, he quickly pulled out his flask and took a swig, numbing his nerves for a little while longer before his next drink. He loved her, oh god he wanted nothing more than just to be with her and go somewhere where none of this would burden them; but he knew such a thought was foolish, he of all people knew better; he was her General and she was his Queen, and that's all they had ever been; after all, he remembered. He remembered being the childhood friend of Zelda, much like this lifetime, but that one was in the sky. He remembered coming back to Castle Town to find everything he had ever known destroyed by Dragmire, the corpses of the inhabitants kept alive by dark magic still sometimes plagued his nightmares, he remembered a number of lifetimes, not all of course but he remembered enough.
His blue eyes seemed to glare like ice in the light, but she could see the tension and sadness in them. His face morphed into one of long pent up frustration, almost beast like; and he began his tirade. "Seven lifetimes…" he started, waving his hands in sporadic motions, "Seven lifetimes…I've risked everything to save you, to save your kingdom!" He stood up and began walking around, trailing his fingers along the worn edges of the books with an almost agonizing slowness. "And do you know why?" Link questioned, as he risked a glance to her behind his back, pity and fire dancing within his demeanor, as if the answer was painstakingly obvious. Melancholy was the deepest emotion Zelda could pick out by his body language, and a deep pit of cynicism with how the world had become. But Zelda did not answer, she stayed silent, she was in too much pain to answer with a logical response. "Because somehow, with all that magic you have, you've always been too weak to defend it yourself! I mean, honestly, you don't expect me to believe that do you?" At this point Zelda began to get desperate, she had never thought anything like this could ever have happened, "Link…" she said, but he cut her off, yelling with such intensity that she flinched. "NO! Don't try to make excuses! You're the very reincarnation of Hylia, so how long? How long have you used everyone around you to do your dirty work?" Disbelief evident in his tone and disenchantment his mistress, Link Winthrop once again took a gulp of the grimy substance and continued, "You, have failed Hyrule…" Link once again peered into Zelda' soul with his gaze, deadpanning his next statement "Hylia, has failed Hyrule."
His tooth tugged on the corner of his lip, as if he was debating about what to say next but then his look turned to one of regret and tenderness, for a second she saw the man she had fell in love with. "Y'know, you would think being the Hero would give you a lot of perks…And sure my name carries weight and every women swoon whenever I'm out on the streets. But I've never gotten what I wanted, I've never wanted those other girls, Zelda, I've always cherished you. I love you…" Link said, his voice trembling and cracking with every syllable, "but I've never gotten to settle down or get married to you. Do you know what that's like? To risk everything and never get to have a comfortable life with the woman I love, to have to countlessly watch her get promised to suitor after suitor, to be denied the one thing my heart yearns for most because of my lower social class!?"
Zelda felt her heart break into a million pieces, but what he said next shattered it even more, and guilt racked her. "And for all my efforts, I am rewarded with the news that the very man you agreed to marry in this lifetime is the very one which we were fighting against, our sworn enemy since the very first flow of time…" She did not look up to see his face. Link was bent over, his hair over his eyes, and hand resting on his forehead as if trying to deal with the stress. His expression was unreadable. If only she had the Courage to speak up, to show him reason and reveal to him that she did love him back, but Link pressed on, Courage had become deaf to Wisdom.
He let out a sour chuckle, filled with irony and laced with venom; if looks could kill the glare he was giving her would make the Master Sword look dull. "Every one of those fucking battles you send me off into, every one of those damn quests…. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, because I've seen things that no man should ever have to see, it's Hell Zelda, you have no idea what it's like out there."
Zelda could feel the blood leaking out of her, her vision was getting fuzzier by the minute, and it was only a matter of time before she succumbed to her wound. She looked up at him, his ash-blond hair wet with perspiration and his cerulean eyes hauntingly wide with such intensity and suffering that they looked as if they were popping out of head, his once boyish and charming smile had twisted into a look of sharp gritting anger and she finally realized after all these years that the demons Link had carried into battle had never left him, he was suffering.
"This cycle…We've been forsaken Zelda. This never-ending Hell of war, pestilence, and terror. This unceasing conflict cannot go on any longer… I love you, but you know me. I'm the Hero, it's my duty to make sure the good and just are the ones left standing in the end. Hyrule can't go on like this, you're not fit to lead but more importantly, Hyrule is always endangered because of this curse, there's no law and order. But I'm going to break the cycle Zelda, I'm going to do what you couldn't, I'm going to continue to protect Hyrule…." He trailed off looking somewhat forlorn, "It's for the good of the kingdom…" At last Zelda spoke up, so faintly that Link almost hadn't heard it, "Y-You're w..wrong, Link." He turned to her, humor apparent on his face, "Well, excuuuuuuuse me, Princess!" and as fast as the humor appeared it was gone, and Link was utterly serious, "But you're nothing but a traitor."
He glanced over at her, expecting a response, but her shallow breaths had stopped, and her petite body lay still. He rushed over to her, he began shaking her, apologizing, frantically screaming her name; tears had begun falling out his eyes, he caressed her softly, stroking his hand against her cheek and kissing her nervously, praying that she would wake up, that this was just a dream. But he knew what he did, he knew. He killed the Princess, he killed the only women he had ever truly loved. His thoughts rushed back and forth, contradicting themselves inside his head.
Link Winthrop, general of the Hylian Third Brigade, thirty-three years old; Murderer; Hero; Liberator; now staunchly stood up, hurriedly removed his flask from his shirt pocket and began drowning himself in the brown and black sludge, his bearded goatee a testament to the withered and cynical man he had become.
Link had dispersed the entirety of the Hylian army into each province of the kingdom. At first the people were wary of the iron-clad men who knocked on their door, but that gradually changed. The whole country seemed to be taking a more liberal, humanitarian stance. In only a few months, jobs were increasing in such a rate that there was hardly a need for the old-fashioned soup kitchens, public reconstruction had seemed to be the agenda; bridges, canals, and more farmland was a stark contrast to the more industrialist era Zelda had attempted to usher in; Kokiri Forest was even transformed into a safe haven where orphans could grow up to live normal (albeit sheltered) lives.
It wasn't the only perk of having Farore be worshipped, the wise tales of the Stalchildren led to less runaways, among other things. Along with these changes, Hyrule also seemed to have a more aggressive education system and outlook; children were taught that Gerudos were the enemy, and possessed an almost colonial outlook of the country.
The minority Gerudo that did stay in Hyrule after Zelda's death were under ruthless discriminative laws, being subject to slurs, beatings, and on rare occasions even rape. Link was disgusted, he had anticipated the hostility sure, but he never wanted it to go this far. He wanted to wipe the Gerudo out completely and swiftly, not prolong their suffering. They were a barbaric evil to be sure, but Hylians weren't; they weren't supposed to do these awful atrocities no matter how bad the desert thieves were; vengeance was intolerable.
"What would Zelda think?" Link thought as he considered the mirror. He was not the man he once was, weeks of second-guessing and regret seemed to have only increased his alcoholism. His very being was still tormented by the slaying of his soulmate. He stalked like a lion to the windows and pulled back the curtain, a small smile crept onto his face; watching this always cheered him up. But as soon as it was over his grimace returned, the next batch of Gerudos to be hung were not due until tomorrow. He was bored, but that was an understatement; the other true Triforce holders were dead, the majority of Gerudo scum were killed off or in hiding and the people had practically began running themselves; there wasn't much more to do.
Shortly, after Ganondorf's death, Hyrule had conquered the entirety of the Gerudo Desert. Without their leader, the tribe of women were confused and outflanked, they simply didn't have the resources or numbers after the war. The province which they once lived, had been used for but one thing; a power plant. The wind power which Hyrule now ran on, was all contained in the dome smack dab in the center of the searing desert., it seemed a perfect fit, after all, the only commodity within the foul land was the wind; said wind would then be connected to various other power plants throughout the provinces via cables, powering the electricity, Hyrule was practically self-sufficient.
Link briefly again thought of executing a few Gerudo personally out of boredom; but he decided against it. They were all cramped, starving, dirty; in small, grimy, places; most of them would die working in the electric power plants anyway. The blonde was hating himself more and more; about a week after Zelda's death he started sleeping with a beautiful rancher girl named Malon; she was sweet and cared for him, yet the relationship was risky at best; she was only seventeen. Still, she was the only one who could make him genuinely happy these days, her musty scent and working-class roots reminded him of the time he worked under his uncle as an apprentice blacksmith…
The green-clad, blue-eyed man took a swig of the milk he had clipped to his belt and after a moment of hesitation, with the Master Sword strapped heroically on his back, rode off to Lon Lon Ranch; desperate to get away from castle life.
It was night time; nine o'clock. The bed was rocking, grunts and moans filled the barn; they had been going at it for hours and Link finally finished. His shirtless frame sat up, and in the moonlight his clean-shaven face was wet with tears. Malon sat up, her freckled nose crinkled with worry, the auburn-haired youth had never seen Link act like this before; she knew what he did of course, but out of courtesy they had never brought it up.
Her voice spoke softly, her southern accent showing through "What's wrong, fairy boy?"
Everything was still, the crickets were quiet, the autumn wind lightly blew through the cracks of the red building; the cows grazed and the moon shined; it was a night unlike any other, time itself had seemed to wait with bated breath.
Link turned to look at her, and replied almost breathless "I killed Zelda, Malon. I keep telling myself that it was for the good of the kingdom and maybe it was but…" the veteran trailed off, even more tears streaming down his messy face, and Malon cupped his face in her hands.
"You're a good man Link, I know it. You can't change the past; at the time, it seemed like the right decision. Hyrule may have been a lot different under Zelda, but that doesn't mean you haven't done a wonderful job." She smiled her chirpy smile and went on; "Link Winthrop..."
At this Link looked up, only to be startled with a passionate kiss; his heart was pumping, he was sweating, he was nervous. He knew this feeling all too well, but what she said next confirmed any doubts he may have had. "I love you." It took him a minute but he realized that she wasn't the only one to say that phrase, he never thought he'd utter it again after Zelda.
He hurriedly got his clothes and sword, storming out of the door and gunning it onto Epona, ignoring Malon' confused and desperate protests and questions. He loved her, he wasn't going to hurt her like he did Zelda; he could never forgive himself if he did. By the time he got back to the Castle it was early sunrise, and he had locked himself in his private quarters; rambling incoherently, his body rocking erratically and his hands clutching his head; the screams and voices of the blood on his hands just would not cease.
He knocked over an old pictograph box, and some pictures fell out onto the ground, at last the voiced had quieted down. "What the hell?" Link yelled confused, he didn't remember this box being in here. A sharp knock had broken Link out of his gaze and he turned towards the door, a soldier barged in, clearly out of breath, "My liege, is everything alright?"
Link looked at the man in disbelief, "I told you to call me General, I'm not royalty. Second, what do you think you're doing just coming in here like that?" His name was Shiro, as Link recalled; he wasn't too memorable, quite boring really.
Shiro hurriedly replied, "Yes, I apolo— "
But, eager to see what those pictures were of, Link dismissed him with a wave of his hand, "It's quite fine, Shiro just don't do it again. Please shut the door on your way out."
Link wasted no time in picking up the pictures and he was shocked. They were of him in his childhood, and with each he found himself reliving the moments. Climbing through the holes to get rupees, seeing that creepy-ass salesman, his first encounter with Zelda in the rose garden…
He started becoming more frantic as he flipped through the photos, he didn't want to remember, he was so…innocent back then; his eyes had already begun to water.
Hugging Darunia…flirting with Ruto…pranking Impa; it all rushed back to him, back after back. The screams started up again but this time was worse, the hallucinations of the deceased were almost deafening. The liberator tried to scream, to at least release some of his madness and frustration out; to try and calm down… but he couldn't.
Link was stumbling everywhere, knocking over vases, pictures, and other artifacts. Then he started getting extremely random, slamming his back into the doorway and throwing his hands wildly around; breaking the stained glass around the room.
The voiced talked to him with horrific pitches, he could hear them burning, he could hear the kids being beaten and the rape victims of his people, he could hear Zelda demonically screaming at him from all corners of the room asking him why he killed her. Visions flashed through his mind, his friends and family dying by his hand.
His uncle's head was chopped clean off, Darunia was crushed to death, perhaps the worst one was the young Ruto who was painstakingly mutilated and then fried.
Next was that damn salesman who stomped proudly with Impa's face stitched to his like a mask.
Finally, Malon was gutted, Link gleefully wearing her skin.
At this, Link began banging his head onto the marble floor, the blood and sweat causing the whiteness to form a crude pool of grime. Incomprehensible moans of sorrow, desperation, and fear filled the small bedroom. Link shut his eyes and began reaching around the room for something he could use to block out the sounds, only to grunt in pain a moment later.
At once it all stopped and his eyes shot open…It was the Master Sword, stained with his blood. But how was that possible? "No.." Link exclaimed, "It's just another hallucination." He smelt the blood, he wasn't dreaming. How…He was Link, he was the Hero; the green-clad fighter who time and time again rescued the princess and saved the Kingdom, he was the holder of the Triforce of Courage, the liberator….
"No…" Link decided he wouldn't lie to himself anymore, "No, I screwed up." The cut on his hand was proof of that. He killed the women he loved and steered his homeland onto a path divergent from the Goddesses' ideals…Hylia didn't fail Hyrule…He was wrong; he….
Wordlessly, Link stood up. He could hear the numerous soldier's footsteps rushing down the corridor. Time seemed to slow down and regret was the only emotion in his eyes; he was an empty fool. He had nothing left, he had failed; he had become the evil he fought against… All those innocent people…
Link plunged the Master Sword into his heart, blood leaked out of his mouth as he gasped for breath; his eyes drooped as he whispered his final words… "I tried…Zelda…forgive me."
Link Winthrop: Racist; Blind; Traitor. Now lyed dead on the castle floor.
