Too few years the Gerudo had their king before they were reminded of the supremacy of another. It was a hot day in the middle of summer when an envoy from Hyrule Castle came to their valley, a man in silver armor and purple cloth astride a white horse bedecked very similarly. The old women tutted at the mistreatment of the horse, who was sweating nearly as much as the messenger astride it, but the young women were silent and shushed their aunts and looked at each other with trepidation. They knew that Ganondorf had sent a petition to the King of Hyrule, though they knew not what, but they also knew how unlikely the answer was to please him. Ganondorf was too young to have taken part in the civil war, but many of his elder sisters well remembered the blood shed, and the hatred that still floated in the air between all of the peoples.
The messenger looked about himself at every step through the camp; in any other place he might have been more confident, but in this place full of women in purple carrying halberds and women in white carrying bows, every eye turned to him like a curious beast who had wandered into the village, there was no room for the haughtiness of an emissary. Nabooru felt sorry for him. That is why, when he came to the entrance of the fortress, she met him there.
"Welcome, stranger," she said as he drew up his horse, which looked as exhausted as the old women were whispering.
He looked at her and inhaled and in a moment seemed to recover the pompous elevation of a man who was charged with speaking for his liege. "No stranger here, good woman. I am the emissary of His Majesty the King of Hyrule, known to all of His subjects, even so far-flung as the sisters of the desert."
She blinked at his curtness, then found herself amused, smirking as he lowered himself from his horse. "Indeed, then. Then allow me to extend a welcome on behalf of the King of Gerudo; I am his second-in-command, Nabooru. Will you be needing lodging?"
"Perhaps," he said, "but I am under order that my first business should be to speak to the Gerudo lord Ganondorf, and that I may take no rest until he has heard my message."
"I see," she said, and leaned in close him, and his eyes went wide at her proximity and she could smell the sweat of the road on him, mixed with the sweat of nerves bordering on fear. "And if we were to make you wait before seeing him, then? Would you stand here in the sun on the hem of the desert's skirts, roasting like a piece of meat until you were ready to be served to our king at his leisure?"
Indignation flashed over his face, but fear mastered him, and then duty, and he said, "If that is what is required of me, lady."
She smiled. "It is good that it is not, then. Our King is in his chambers. Here, one of our attendants will take your horse; he, at least, will get the rest he so plainly needs."
"Thank you, lady," he said, and a girl took the reins from him, and he seemed very relieved and affectionate toward his horse. Nabooru decided she liked him better, then, and lead him through the fortress.
Past the mess halls and the sleeping chambers they went, and girls on kitchen duty peeked out of the kitchen to watch the two of them walk by. Further and further in they went, and the emissary, to his credit, did not show any further sign of the fear he must have been feeling.
"I must warn you," she said to him as they passed between two guards, entering a long hallway, "the the Gerudo do not have audience chambers as you Hylians do. Ganondorf will receive you in his own quarters." The emissary nodded and said nothing, which was good; she had very nearly expected him to ask a stupid question.
They came to Ganondorf's chambers in little more time; in truth she had taken a roundabout path, winding just enough to give word time to spread without arousing the emissary's suspicion that he was being lead in circles. Because of the time provided, Ganondorf was waiting for them, seated in his high-backed wooden chair. Kotake was to his left and Koume to his right, and the old women snapped to attention when Nabooru and the emissary entered. Armed guards closed the door behind them, and Nabooru couldn't help being surprised; Ganondorf did not need armed guards at all, and even if he did the two witches were worth an army. It must have been for appearance's sake, then.
But Ganondorf did not need that either: he was enormous in the black robes of his office, as tall sitting as the emissary was standing, and the Hylian was not a short man. The king exuded power and authority and grace like a cat in repose, though his eyes were wide open and attentive without being malicious.
"You have come bearing news, I trust," Ganondorf said. The emissary nodded and bowed at the waist, as deep as it was possible for his body to go - this was the greatest respect he could pay to another king, a step removed from the full bending of the knee that he would pay his own. It was setting the tone for the entire conversation, that bow.
"I do, O King of the Gerudo. I am here in the name of Marense Johansen Hyrule, the First of His name, Beloved of Hylia, Protector of the Fields, the Lake, and the Legacy of Her people, Hero of the second Battle of the Plains, Brother to the," and so it went for some time, outlining the Hylian king's lordships and victories in battle, and the many lands under his command, including those of the Gerudo. One upside to the outcome of the civil war, for the Hylians, was that their army had been victorious, and more than victorious: they had established supremacy, set down their borders around the most defensible lands in the kingdoms, and ensured that they controlled trade between all of the peoples of Hyrule. The Hylian king had ensured that though Ganondorf may have been king over the Gerudo, Marense Johansen Hyrule was king over all. So the emissary, in introducing himself, had a great deal to say.
Ganondorf waited in silence while the emissary finished, his face impassive, perfectly patient.
When he was done with the titles, the emissary cleared his throat once. "His Majesty sends His greetings, O King, to His brother in arms who shepherds His sisters of the desert, beautiful and beloved of the sand. He has instructed that I should relay His message, without addition or subtraction of a single word, and thus shall I relay it.
"Lord Ganondorf. I extend my greetings to you, my brother in heart and in friendship, and have an answer to your petition. In regards to the request that certain among the Gerudo should be allowed to make settlement on the fields of Hyrule, in an area between the boundaries of the lake not extending further than the Gerudo desert nor within a day's walk of Lon Lon Ranch," and Nabooru stared at Ganondorf with wide eyes and she heard the guards behind her gasp at the same time, though the old witches only nodded, they knew and she hadn't known, "I am afraid that I must deny your petition."
Silence. None of the Gerudo gathered dare to breathe. Ganondorf, to his credit, did not react.
"It is with regret that I must rely on your understanding that though you and I are on excellent terms, my people still do not know yours well enough. Though I bear no doubt that your people might live peacefully by mine, my people do not have that same understanding, and the commingling of our peoples, outside of the occasional, may be inimical to both of ours. In time it may be that we can live together, but that time has not yet come."
"The war," Ganondorf said, and his voice cut into the emissary's speech like a knife, and every eye in the chamber turned to him, "was a decade ago."
The emissary blinked, cleared his throat, and might have looked about for help except that he was sure to get none in this place. Left with nothing else, he continued. "I thank you for your understanding, and look forward to improving the relations between our people in the future. I remain your King and friend, Marense Johansen Hyrule."
Nabooru braced herself for the storm, but there was nothing. Ganondorf breathed out, long and loud, through his nostrils. This was the only outward sign of his feeling anything at all.
"That is the message," he said.
"As it was dictated to me, sire."
"So be it," Ganondorf said, and rose from his seat, so tall his head nearly scraped against the ceiling of the chamber. "I had thought that the friendship between our people would be pronounced enough to allow for cohabitation, but it is not so. Your people are the chosen of the gods, after all."
The emissary said nothing. He swallowed. Nabooru could not even breathe as her king walked toward the smaller man.
"Will you bear a message for me in return?"
"As you command it, sire."
"It is this. The rejection is accepted. One month after this messenger has left Gerudo Valley, I and a number of my people will pay visit to Hyrule Castle." He smiled, and no one in the room knew what it meant but Nabooru. "This will be the first step in the long process of building confidence between our people, and I look forward to the parts that all of us will play." He placed his hand on the messenger's shoulder, and it swallowed the man's pauldron. "That is all. Go and rest. Eat well tonight; dine with my people, as no Hylian has done in years. We will arrange for you entertainment as is known to your people, or you may experience our own. Let Nabooru know, and she will see to it that your needs are met."
"Yes, sire." The emissary said, and placed his fist against his heart and bowed. "I am humbled by the generosity and hospitality of the Gerudo, and will convey word of it everywhere I go."
"See that you do, good servant of your king. Guards, show him to the guest chambers and see that he is treated well in the mess hall. Stay with him, and see that he is shown any part of the fortress that he desires. Kotake, Koume, make arrangements that our guest be entertained; arrange for music and dancing, and whatever else he desires." He was smiling, still, and he let go of the Hylian's shoulder. "Be at ease now. You will ride again tomorrow, but tonight you will live very well."
The Hylian bowed again, with all the earnestness of before, and was lead from the chambers by the guards. Kotake and Koume exchanged glances, knowing glances, and shook their heads as they hobbled from the room, dragging their brooms behind them. Nabooru stayed, as she always stayed, and shut the door behind the witches. She turned to face her king, but he was not looking at her. He was walking back to his high-backed wooden chair.
"I tried," he said. "I knew what would happen, but I tried. Diplomacy has failed our people."
"For now," she said, but she knew that even if she were right then she was still courting disaster. "Only for now, my king. You have made real overtures of peace. In a few more years time-"
"WE HAVE WAITED ENOUGH!" He rounded on her, and even though ten paces separated them she shrank back from him, from the fire in his eyes and the drawing of his lips away from his teeth in a grimace like she had never seen. "Four hundred years since Kotake and Koume were girls, and centuries more have we spent in this wasteland! Do you think this the first overture of peace with the Hylians, or the first time we were rejected for no reason but fear? Do you think I'm the first king to seek this for his people? Do you?"
"Ganondorf," she said, and she felt apart from herself, her mind numb as she found herself against the wall even though he had made no move toward her, "you are scaring me."
Silence. She saw the fire in his eyes go out, the storm abating, and he looked at her and then down at himself.
"I am sorry. I have grown tired and frustrated. In a month's time this disappointment will have abated, and you will join me on my excursion to the Hyrulian Royal Castle." He looked at her again. In spite of its phrasing, it was a request. A plead.
"Of course, my lord," she said, because she could say nothing else, and her heart went out to him. That rage was born of love for their people, she believed. A small voice inside of her was asking if she believed it because she had to. She tried to ignore it. "Of course I will."
"Thank you," he said, and turned away from her again, resting one hand on his chair. "Leave me now, and I will join you and the emissary later. See that all goes well until I come out."
"Yes, Ganondorf," she said. She waited for him to say more, to say that she had nothing to fear from him, that the burden of fear was on him alone, but he said nothing, and in the silence she took her leave.
As she walked out she glanced back once more, and she saw the wooden frame of his chair splintering between his fingers.