Hey, guess what? I finally figured out what I want to do with this, for the most part. It includes an OC and adding a few – possibly unusual and strange – concepts to the story. I don't know when I will start throwing all this in, if I will be doing it at all, however; this is just an FYI.


Chapter 4

The sun slowly rose up into the sky, streaking it with a myriad of pastel colors and chasing away the black of night. The morning slowly warmed as Link slept, and hours passed before he stirred. Then afternoon came and the sun beat relentlessly down on his mound of blankets, making it uncomfortably hot.

Yawning massively, Link shoved the blankets aside, shamelessly letting them fall to a crumpled heap on the floor. They would get picked up when he was ready to pick them up. He looked around for a few moments, confused at the strange surroundings. He slowly realized that this room was not what it was supposed to be.

The room was not a dungeon cell or the corner of an infirmary; it was an extensive, stylish bedroom. As Link sat up on the side of the bed, he once again noticed its massive size. It could easily fit three more people of his size comfortably, which probably wasn't much given that he was thin and slightly shorter than average.

The blankets were soft and a rich, deep red color with gold thread woven in intricate patterns. It made him feel uncomfortable. He was from the country; a beautiful blanket such as this was not suited for people like him.

Feeling a little guilty about using the blanket and treating it like he would a blanket at home, Link stepped onto the floor, the gray stone warmed by the sun. He looked around. Now that it was daytime, he wanted to locate possible sources of light for when it was dark. The pitch blackness of last night was inexcusable. It hid too many things, just like a mask that hid one's face.

On the wall opposite the door, there was a fireplace. It was suspiciously clean, and there was no firewood to be seen anywhere. Link walked over to the wall and examined it, running his hands and eyes over the perimeter of the room. To his surprise, he found that most of the stone wall was the clean gray of freshly laid stone. The mortar that held the stones together was white and fresh, like it had just been put between the stones just a mere few days ago. Even the furniture bore no signs of age.

The room itself was relatively bare. There was the bed, a nightstand, a tub that looked like it might have some plumbing in it, and a couple of chairs. A mirror hung on a wall. The chairs and bed were slightly larger than usual It's like all the furniture was built for a giant, Link thought with amusement, fingering the arm of a chair. It was a dark, rich brown color, polished until he could see his own reflection. The bed was made of the same material.

I must be in a tower that was destroyed at one point, Link mused, peering out a window. Everything is so new. His sharp eyes spotted movement on the ground. His fellow Hylians looked like the smallest of ants from his vantage point. He wondered why they were scurrying about so frantically. As far as he knew, there were no festivals that were to happen soon – fall was still a few weeks away. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

Shrugging to himself, he turned from the window and padded over to the nightstand. A tray of food graced the table, the potion glittering brightly next to it. To his disappointment, there was no candle that he could use later that night. There was a bowl with what looked to be porridge on the tray, as well as a plate of buttered bread and a pitcher of juice. The porridge was cool to the touch, indicating that it was put there some time ago. It was sprinkled with fruit, but they looked strange to Link. They were sticky looking and dusted with what appeared to be sugar. He fished a fruit out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth.

It was surprisingly sweet, and he almost choked on the fruit before he convinced himself that it was okay to be swallow it. Link looked at the other fruit with distaste. They looked funny because they had been soaked in honey and covered with sugar, and if he tasted the porridge, it was probably unsweetened.

Wrinkling his nose, Link picked up a spoon and stirred the porridge, mixing the candied fruit thoroughly into it. He spooned the cold cereal into his mouth, trying not to linger too much on the sweetness. He liked sweet things, but he didn't like things that tasted essentially like flavored, concentrated sugar. Relief filled him when he finished the porridge and he could wash the taste out with the buttered bread and the juice.

After finishing his late breakfast, Link walked over to the window and tried to open it so that he could get a better look outside. The room was starting to feel a little stifling; he was used to being outside, where it was open and a breeze was always blowing across the land. If Ganondorf was going to be an ass and keep him in suspense as to what his punishment would be, the least he could was to let him have the windows open. It's not like he was going to jump out the window, let alone try to escape through it. Not with a broken wrist and a next to useless arm.

With great difficulty, Link managed to open the window. Even though they weren't locked - and he'd checked several times to make sure - the windows stuck like they were glued together. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the hinges or frames. He had to shove the handle of the spoon between the windows and lever them apart before they opened. He disfigured the spoon horribly, but he didn't care.

Leaning onto the window sill, Link breathed in the fresh air, relishing the sturdy breeze that ruffled his hair. The skin on his chest and arms prickled in the cold, making him shiver slightly and his shoulder ache. He noticed for the first time that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and that the pants he wore weren't his either. The pants themselves were a soft brown material that was thick and warm, and they fit loosely around his body.

Well, that's troublesome, Link thought to himself, turning back to the window. He would have to ask for more clothing the next time he saw someone.

Craning his head up, he examined the clouds. He fancied that the one directly above him was Epona, but the thought was quickly abandoned. He didn't even know where she was, and he missed her. She wouldn't judge him about his failure, and if she did, at least he couldn't understand her. He hoped that she was okay, wherever she was.

Distracted by his thoughts, Link almost didn't hear the door open. He whirled around, fully expecting to see Ganondorf. He was confused to see a pair of maids standing expectantly in front of the door, one of them bearing a large chest in her hands. That was odd. Extremely odd. Men would have difficulties carrying that chest. How could she be holding it so easily?

"His Majesty instructed us to give you some new clothing and other necessities," the maid holding the chest said, dumping it onto the floor. Her voice was flat and emotionless, and each syllable was enunciated carefully, as if she just learned the language.

"I will take your tray down to the kitchens," the other maid said, picking up the tray, "I will bring dinner when it's ready." The two of them turned to leave.

"Wait!" Link said, lunging for the maids and grabbing one of their arms, "Don't leave yet."

They stopped and waited expectantly, their flat eyes gazing at him as if he wasn't there. Link squeezed the arm he was holding, eyes wide with disbelief. It was solid, like wood. He quickly pulled up the maid's sleeve; the joint was a simple wooden ball. He slowly let go of her arm and backed away a few steps, wary. He distrusted magic. It had its uses, but he preferred to not have any interaction with it. Magic was a complex mess and it only meant trouble. His travels had only reinforced this belief.

The maids continued to stare stare at him, giving Link a few moments to examine them. Their skin was light, and their hair was dull brown and tied back into severe buns, and their unmoving eyes were the same dull brown color of their hair. Their figures were minimal and plain. They looked like someone you could see everyday day but would forget about the instant you looked away.

"Did you want something?" one of them prompted. Link thought that if her wooden features could bear any emotion, she would be extremely impatient right now.

"Oh,yes," Link blinked; he had forgotten his questions with the discovery that the maids were just puppets.

"Do you know why I am in here? It seems odd to lock up a prisoner in a bedroom such as this and not the dungeons."

"We do not know why His Majesty does anything," a maid replied, "We simply do as we're told."

Link peered closely at the maids, trying to decide if they could actually feel or think for themselves, or if they were simply glorified puppets. "Well, if you don't know anything, will you ask him to come up here and talk to me?"

"No," came the flat reply.

"Why?"

"His Majesty will come and talk to you when he wants to talk to you," the maid holding the tray replied, her glass eyes looking him straight in the eye, "Do you need us to fetch you anything?"

"...No, I guess not," Link said, looking away, feeling uneasy. The maids were disturbing, he decided, and he didn't want to be near them any longer.

They bowed slightly and quickly left the room. Link glared at the door when he heard the lock click into place. He hadn't even contemplated pushing past the maids and making a mad dash for freedom, but that plan wouldn't have ended well. Too much castle between him and freedom, and that meant there were too many guards for him to avoid.

Sighing, he walked over to the mirror and examined the bandages that were wrapped around his torso and over his shoulder. The gauze was badly stained with his own blood. He shrugged his shoulder a little sharply. Biting his lip as pain erupted from torn muscles, Link turned to look sadly at the tub. It was probably best to not risk bathing, especially since he could feel a fresh trickle of blood leak out of the wound.

Turning his attention to the chest the puppet maids brought up, he ran his fingers over the black wood. It looked like it had been tossed into a large fire until the wood was charred over the entire surface, pulled out, and then polished. Pulling the lid up, he examined the contents. On one side, there was clean clothing. It looked to be made of the same material as his pants, and all of them plain, neutral colors. The other half was far more interesting.

Kneeling down, Link rifled through the contents. To his delight, he found several candles and a box of matches. There were also clean bandages and some salve for his wound, as well as some soap and a few books. There were also a few pieces of brightly colored string whose purpose escaped Link.

I guess I will just make a bracelet out of them if I get really bored, Link thought wryly, pulling a creamy white tunic over his head before grabbing a candle and the matches out of the chest. He let the lid slam shut, feeling strangely comforted by the loud bang! in the still silence.

Feeling a strong gusy steal into the room, Link hurriedly jumped up and closed the windows. They jumped out of his fingers, gluing themselves together like they did earlier. They didn't even rattle in the wind.

Glad his fingers weren't in the way when he closed the window, Link gazed out the glass. The sky had turned dark in the short amount of time he had been exploring the chest. It was full of black clouds that looked like they would dump several weeks worth of rain onto the land below. What is wrong with the weather? Link thought, feeling a little gloomy at being forced to have the windows locked up.

Sighing in resignation, Link plopped himself onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't until the first sharp crack of lightening – followed swiftly by booming thunder – that he moved, startled. He scooted under the covers, deciding to sleep through the storm rather than stay awake.


Ganondorf looked out the window of his study when he heard the first crack of lightening. He wondered if it was normal to get such bad storms during this time of year. After spending so much time in the world of the Twili, he had forgotten what it was like in the land of the Hyrule.

Turning back to the puppets, he eyed them critically. He hated making these things, but they were better than having to deal with real people. They would get replaced when he was sure he wasn't going to get poisoned when eating.

"Did he say anything to you two while you were in his room?"

"Yes, sir."

Ganon waited patiently for them to continue, then sighed when he realized when they were going to answer his questions literally. "Well? What did he say?"

"He asked why he was locked up in the tower instead of the dungeons, and then he asked if he could talk to you," came the flat reply. "We told him no."

Well, that's interesting, Ganon thought to himself as he nodded in approval, I thought for sure he would want me to keep my distance.

"Good girls. You may leave now," with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the maids, who left promptly.

Ganon sat back in his chair and watched the rain drops smash themselves into his window. Another streak of lightening lit up the sky, the resulting boom of thunder penetrating deep into his bones.

This is such lovely weather, Ganon thought sardonically, smiling. He watched the storm rage with hellish fury, striking the earth many times with its blades of lightening. The rain fell so heavily that he wondered if he should make sure that the castle wasn't prone to flooding, but he quickly pushed that thought from his mind.

It wasn't until it was pitch black outside that he stood up and lit a candle. The rain subsided slightly, and the lightening was more infrequent. Checking a nearby clock, Ganon saw that it was still a couple of hours until midnight. He wasn't tired and didn't really want to fall asleep when the thunder was still booming about. It was too lovely and powerful to sleep through, but not entertaining enough to convince him that he needed to stay up.

A smile flitted across his lips. Oh, he had entertainment all right, and he was currently sleeping up in the tower.