AUTHOR'S NOTE
I know this is a dreadfully long wait for an update, and I do apologize. When I originally conceived the idea for this fic, I had quite a bit more time on my hands than I do currently; as a result, we have several months between today and my last update, ahaha.
I was very pleased to receive positive feedback on this little story, and I must say that I was genuinely surprised! I thought it up one day when I was counting the similarities between Legend of Zelda and Quest for Camelot, and it honestly didn't occur to me that anyone would enjoy reading it. Your support and kind words are much appreciated, and played no small role in this update.
CHAPTER TWO - Peacetime's End
Seven years had passed since the eight members of the queensguard had become six, and though the empty chairs had long since been taken away to a supply cupboard, Zelda could still feel the loneliness their images had brought to the room.
Over Ganondorf she had felt no grief, only regret and a constant fear of where he might have vanished to. Rauru had sent the castle guard out to find him, but there had been no trace of the Gerudo King. His last words towards her echoed through her ears - One day, that throne will be mine.
Zelda ran a hand over the round wooden table. The council hall felt dreary today, likely due to the torrent of rain and the grey skies outside the large bay window. The wooden surface beneath her fingertips, bathed in the grey light of the morning, gave no indication that a woman may have died upon it. However, to Zelda's eyes it seemed stained, and she could not shake the feeling that the Lady Keira remained in the very room she had died in.
"What troubles you?" Impa inquired as she appeared out of nowhere, interrupting Zelda's thoughts. Impa had been Zelda's nursemaid since her mother had died in childbirth, practically raising Zelda in her father's occupation-derived absence. As a result, Zelda held the woman in high regard and loved her as she expected she may have loved her own mother, had she not died.
"It's been seven years," Zelda replied quietly, knowing Impa was likely already thinking the same thing as Zelda was.
Impa nodded, resting a hand on her chair at the table. "Indeed it has. Funny, that in another world seven years were spent under Ganondorf's rule."
Zelda shuddered at the thought. To the outside world, her queensguard were merely knights sworn to her. In actuality however, they were six Sages charged with upholding the natural law in the world. They shared the knowledge and memories of those who existed in the mirror world, created when Link had been sent back to his childhood by that realm's princess. As a result, they were among the few who had knowledge of what Ganondorf was capable of, and why it was so terribly important that Link remain on their side.
Regrettably however, Hyrule was without an active hero.
As if reading Zelda's thoughts, Impa placed a hand on her shoulder. "He will return, Zelda," she assured her. "He simply needs time to heal."
Zelda was about to respond when the council hall doors were opened and the Sages began to flood in. As everyone began taking their seats, Zelda sought out Saria's hand, squeezing it gently as she whispered, "Have you heard from him?"
Saria looked up, shaking her head minutely. "No," she admitted in the same hushed tone. "I have seen him around the forest, though he seems to have resigned himself to a life of seclusion."
Zelda only nodded, releasing the Sage of the Forest's hand and taking her seat beside Impa. "Good morning, everyone," she greeted them warmly. "I do hope you are all well. As you are undoubtedly aware, I have been keeping the Ocarina of Time on our persons for safe-keeping for the past seven years. However, Impa had presented the risks of this to me early on, and… under recent circumstances I may be forced to reconsider its hiding place."
"Recent circumstances?" repeated Ruto from across the table, regarding Zelda with the unclouded eyes of a Zora.
Zelda sighed. "My advisors have strongly suggested that I marry soon, to a prince of a neighbouring kingdom."
"They will undoubtedly expect an heir," Impa continued. "With the never-ending threat of an attack from Ganondorf in the future, I do not believe it is in the best interest of the kingdom that her Grace keeps such an invaluable item on her person at all times, especially not if she is expected to carry a child."
"But the Ocarina allows its bearer to teleport," Darunia argued. "Would that not be the safest method of escape, should we be attacked?"
Rauru spoke up, shaking his head. "Her Grace would need to have enough time to pick, choose, and play a song that would cause her to teleport. To assume that there will always be time enough to allow for this is foolish and risky."
"That leaves the issue of where best to conceal the Ocarina," said Nabooru. "I would offer my lands, but I doubt there is an inch of the Gerudo Desert that Ganondorf is unfamiliar with."
"I appreciate it nonetheless," Zelda assured her. "Where else may we hide it?"
"I cannot guarantee its safety in my realm," Ruto said. "Our only hiding places are known to Ganondorf, and we are easily placed at risk in the event of a frost - unavoidable at this time of year."
"Can you not just seal it in a block of ice?" Darunia asked.
Ruto glared at him. "Ice, as you may be aware, can be easily melted," she explained. "Even if we were to use red ice, it would also be a poor hiding spot in that Ganondorf would be able to see right through it. It should be used as a barrier, and no more."
"That's not a bad idea," Zelda said quickly. "If we were to add red ice as an element of protection to the Ocarina's hiding place, that may give us a little more flexibility as to where it might be hidden. Impa, would the graveyard be out of the question? Or the Shadow Temple?"
Impa eyed Zelda carefully, thinking it over before she spoke. "I would not say out of the question," she admitted, "but I would only suggest those places as a last resort. Not all the spirits I encounter there are well-meaning, and I fear a vengeful spirit of one of Ganondorf's allies would acquire it."
Zelda nodded, exhaling slowly. The situation was beginning to seem increasingly hopeless.
Saria spoke up then, much to Zelda's surprise. "He could keep it safe," she suggested, a playful smile on her ageless face.
"He…?" Impa repeated before trailing off as recognition bloomed across her face. She exchanged a glance with Zelda. "It could work."
Zelda pursed her lips. "Would he agree to it?"
"I'm sure if we point out to him that he doesn't have a choice…" Saria trailed off.
"No," Zelda said quickly. "He always has a choice. I do not wish to force fate upon him. He suffered enough of this in the mirror world."
"Zelda…" Impa spoke softly, less an advisor and more a mother in this moment. "You mustn't let your feelings cloud your judgment. I know you care for him - we all do, but I'm sure that you know better than anyone that in his current state he needs a little more than encouragement for this task."
Impa spoke the truth. Zelda took a deep breath before speaking. "Very well," she said. "Saria, you will take the Ocarina to Link and the two of you will keep it safe in the forest. Ruto, I would like you to supply him with red ice, should he need to create a makeshift barrier to deflect Ganondorf's forces."
"It is done, your Grace," Ruto accepted, nodding. As the Sages all stood up, Saria left her place to meet Zelda by the window. Withdrawing the Ocarina from a pocket within the folds of her navy blue gown, Zelda admired the Ocarina briefly. It was the same navy blue as her dress, beautifully crafted porcelain with the Triforce engraved in gold around the mouthpiece.
"It will be safe, your Grace," Saria assured her. There was no trace of deception in her eyes, only sincerity and pride in being able to protect something so precious.
Just as Zelda was about to pass over the Ocarina, something went horribly wrong. A dark shadow had begun to accumulate in the grey clouds, but she had passed it off as a storm cloud. She saw now that it was the form of a man riding a stallion as it broke through the council room window with a thunderous crash.
A large piece of glass collided with Zelda's arm, and she cried out as she felt it tear through the sleeve of her dress and her own skin. The Ocarina clattered to the floor, where Saria attempted to reach for it. Before she could, a dark cloud of mist engulfed the instrument, levitating it to the rider of the stallion's hand. As she looked upon his face, Zelda felt a deep sense of dread accumulate inside of her.
The stallion was a battle-scarred black warhorse, and its rider wore all too familiar Gerudo armour. His face was covered with a mask that resembled a skull - or perhaps that was authentic? Link had recounted his travels in the mirror world to her, and one monster he had mentioned facing was a creation of the exiled Gerudo King - a Phantom Ganondorf created through means of magic.
As he rode away, the Ocarina in hand, Zelda felt the pit of dread in her stomach grow larger and more hopeless. "Impa," she said weakly, "Impa, he's returned…"
The grave behind the race track was simple, without even a traditional headstone. A mound of grass was marked only by a few boulders, with lilies sprouting up between the cracks to flower across the grave of Malon's mother, Keira.
It had been seven years since her mother had died, and Malon was still struggling to deal with the reality of loss. She loved her father, but she had shared a bond with her mother that Talon could not replicate.
Rising from the grave, Malon began to walk back towards the ranch without much joy at doing so. She had finished preparing the stables for the cold weather, so there really weren't any outstanding chores. Pulling open the door to the building she and Talon used as their house, she was grateful to enter the warmth and smell breakfast cooking. The door shut with a bang as she hung her coat up.
"Don't slam the door, please," Talon called from the kitchen.
"It was the wind," replied Malon, though truthfully she wasn't sure who had slammed the door. She made a beeline for the stove, saving the eggs before they burnt. Talon was an eternally distracted man; in truth, Malon couldn't quite recall whether he'd always been this way or if the absent-minded behaviour was a side effect of loss.
"Ah… sorry, pet," Talon apologized meekly, scratching the back of his head. "I must've lost track of the time."
"It's all right, father," Malon replied quietly, serving the food onto the breakfast dishes. Talon was already sitting at the table when she laid his plate in front of him. The two of them ate in silence, and perhaps it was the silence that day that drove Malon up the wall.
The cloying scent of honeysuckle - her own hair, she realized - and the thick scent of cooking oil, combined with the droning of birds and the repetitious sounds of the grandfather clock… all of it was too monotonous, too mundane.
The thirst for adventure had not been quelled by the circumstances of her mother's death. If anything, spending the last seven years being cooped up in the ranch had caused Malon's desires to ferment.
Talon stared almost blankly into space as he toyed with the remnants of the eggs on his plate. Malon narrowed her eyes as she angrily shoved her own eggs into her mouth. "This isn't what she would've wanted," she muttered in annoyance.
Frowning, Talon glanced up from his food. Realization clouded his face with a similar expression as the one Malon wore. "You're not still on about that, are you?" he returned, his tone dangerously aggressive. Conversations of Keira's death and the effect it had had on Talon were frequent happenings these days.
"Mother wouldn't want us to mope and live in fear," Malon insisted. "You never leave the ranch anymore, and you sulk every day."
"I do not sulk," Talon retorted.
"Then what do you call this?" demanded Malon, gesturing about her. "The ranch can't make any money if you don't do anything to support it! We're only just breaking even father, you've been existing for the past seven years, you haven't been doing anything since she died!"
"Don't make this about me," Talon interjected, shaking a finger at Malon. "No matter how unbearable you make out life is here, I'm not about to let my only daughter ride off on an immature steed with delusions of grandeur."
Malon slammed her fork down. "I am going insane here, father," she protested, her desperate words oozing between her clenched teeth. "I wasn't made for ranch life, I want to travel the world, I want to help serve my country, I want to be a knight."
Talon stood up abruptly, and Malon jumped as the table shuddered with the movement. "Like it or not, the ranch life is the life you lead," Talon said carefully, his tone forcibly even. "You'd better accept it, young lady. You're not going to be a knight."
Then a knight you shall be.
You're not going to be a knight.
Her parents' words echoed in Malon's head, conflicting with one another. Her lip quivered against her will, and her ire only increased with the added frustration of tears springing to her eyes. She pushed away from the table quickly and bolted for the door, craving the smell of the fields and the warmth of Epona's neck against her face. When she got outside however, she was entirely unprepared for what awaited her.
Ingo was a man Talon had hired about five years ago, when it became apparent he needed a third individual to manage the affairs of the ranch. Malon didn't trust him as far as she could throw him; there was something about him that had always seemed off to her. Seeing him standing before a giant of a man in dark armour with a mechanical arm hardly helped.
"Ingo, who are you talking to?" Malon asked, but before the words had even finished leaving her mouth she knew that the question was foolish. Every nerve ending in her body screamed for her to run, but the tall man stared at her with wild, hellfire eyes and she found herself paralyzed.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Master Ingo," the stranger boomed, shaking hands with Ingo.
"The pleasure is all mine, your Grace," Ingo replied in his trademark drone.
Malon narrowed her eyes. "There is only one ruler of the land and she is the Queen Zelda," she blurted suddenly, somewhere between confusion and muted annoyance.
Ingo laughed loudly. "Forget your child queen," he scoffed. "Hail your new king, Ganondorf of the Gerudo."
Ganondorf. The name sent ice down Malon's spine. In the few times she had seen Nabooru since her mother's death, she had begged to know the name of the man who had slain Keira. When Nabooru had finally given in to an insistent young Malon's requests, "Ganondorf" had been the name she uttered when referring to the killer.
Malon had imagined a thousand reactions upon seeing the man who had murdered her mother. None of them came to fruition now; instead she stood in stunned silence, sudden betrayal and alarm swirling within her.
"Don't mind the Stalfos, my fair lady," Ganondorf called. "Do as I say, and you won't be harmed."
The words sunk in too late; Malon caught sight of the aforementioned Stalfos and found herself filled with terror. She was met with the dried and ancient face of a skeleton, animated through vile means, magic surely. It reached towards her with skeletal claws and a scream tore itself from her throat as her feet forced themselves to pull her away from the monster.
Talon came running from inside, catching sight of the Stalfos. He pushed it aside quickly and placed himself between Malon and the monster, but she saw now that there was more than just one; dozens of them were beginning to appear from the ground, pushing through the dirt like daisies. Malon would scream again but her terror had peaked and it had clogged her windpipe.
"Now, now," Ganondorf mused, shaking his head. "I had said you would not be harmed if you did as I said. This ranch is under my control; I have a need for your goods and services, and I doubt you will find yourselves able to refuse the offer I plan to make for them."
The word "offer" coming from Ganondorf sounded less like an offer and more like a threat. Malon shuddered, but Talon's gruff voice brought her back to reality. "Get Epona," he hissed. "Get out."
Malon blinked. "What?" she said dazedly.
"Get out of here!" Talon repeated, more urgently. He practically shoved Malon away from Ganondorf and the army of Stalfos; she stumbled but quickly regained herself, bolting for the fields where Epona stood grazing. She had already been saddled for a day of riding practice, but was clearly perplexed at Malon's sudden insistence. Clambering onto Epona, Malon struggled to grip the reigns and urged the young horse onwards towards the exit.
"Come on, come on," she pleaded, her fear hardening into steel as she settled into her comfort zone. With Epona, she suddenly felt as if Ganondorf were a foe she could conquer. Don't be brave, you fool - father said to get out, this isn't a fight you'll win today.
"Don't be a fool!" Ganondorf called, mirroring Malon's thoughts. "You're not a hero, girl, you'll only get yourself killed. I think you'll find I'm quite… reasonable."
"Get out of here, Malon!" Talon roared. "Warn the queen!" He was cut off by a pair of Stalfos as they moved to bind his wrists and gag him. Malon forced herself to look away as she urged Epona forward, through the masses of Stalfos. One of them reached for her, tugging at her hair. She cried out in pain but gritted her teeth and carried on. Epona's forelegs struck a Stalfos and it crumpled to the floor beneath her, accepting a fate of being trampled to a second death.
"Get back here, girl!" Ganondorf shouted from behind her, but Malon was far away now; with one gigantic leap, she and Epona cleared the gates of the ranch, and she galloped into the wide plane of Hyrule Field. Malon allowed herself a brief laugh of relief before she realized they had not left the Stalfos behind in the ranch; they followed her still, and were sprouting from the ground before her. Malon tightened her grip on the reigns, yanking Epona back and diverting their course towards the forest.
"Faster, faster, girl," she breathed, the fear creeping up in her chest once more. She could hear the rattling bones of the Stalfos, the eerie hum of their lungless ribcages as they followed behind. Epona crashed through the ferns in the entrance to the forest, the space between her and the Stalfos growing thinner and thinner. Suddenly, five appeared in front of Epona and Malon, and the mare stopped in her tracks. She whinnied fearfully, and as one Stalfos leaned in to strike she stood on her hind legs, successfully throwing Malon from her back.
"E-Epona!" Malon cried in shock as she fell, her head colliding with the floor painfully. She was aware only of what sounded like a horse's fleeing hooves and the dull sound of steel striking the bones of the Stalfos before she slipped from throbbing consciousness into dreams.