Thanks to all reviewers, you make my day :) And I'm still considering starting another story, so keep a lookout for one!
~Leila
Edited: 1/8/15
Chapter Ten (?)
Ganondorf paced back and forth by the large window overlooking the golden expanses of Guerdo Desert. Scorching winds whipped the sands around, forming dunes then tearing them apart again.
Ganondorf liked the wind; it was powerful. It could tear trees from their roots, wear down mountains, and blow entire cities away. There was just something about the wind, something so poetic and enduring.
No matter what else may happen in the world, the wind will still be there; the eternal breath of the Goddesses. It was a shame the Goddesses would be brought from their perch up in the heavens and forced to get on their knees and bow to him.
He would miss the wind.
The door behind him was thrown open and another man stalked in, this one wearing heavy black robes despite the desert's heat. Ganondorf stopped pacing, but kept his gaze on the sands of his homeland.
"Anything to report?"
"Nothing, my lord. All is running smoothly. However, my spy reports that the Hero has been spending more time with the Princess," the man informed his master.
Ganondorf tensed a little. "Is that so?"
His little girl? With that little brat?
The servant noticed his master's tight expression. "Yes, my lord. Is everything alright?"
Ganondorf shook himself from his thoughts and assumed his unwavering glare. "Everything is fine. I was just thinking about our little spy. How can you be sure that they won't betray us? The spy plays a vital role in all of this, and we can't mess up because you can't wisely choose a stalker."
The other man grinned, revealing sharp teeth like a shark's. He absently ran a finger along the turquoise markings on his arm, and they glimmered dimly at his touch.
"You don't have to worry about the spy, my lord. I have the situation... Under control, if you will. There is just one problem with your brilliant scheme that I'm afraid will have to be dealt with."
"And what might that be?"
"You."
The might Dark King whirled around to face his accomplice, his gold eyes blazing like a roaring fire. "What did you just say?" he hissed.
The other man smiled sadly. "My lord, the issue lies with the Princess. Do not try to deny that you have grown attached to her over the years. I see the way you are when you talk about her. You love her like your own child, and that can't interfere with our plan!" the man cried, looking his master straight into his burning eyes, not flinching away once.
"It won't! Whatever would make you suggest that?"
"Master, do you know how to obtain a section of the Triforce when it has a human host?"
"...You kill the bearer."
"Exactly. If you hesitate to kill that girl, all could be lost. She will only need that one second of hesitation to slip right between our fingers. Even if you kill the Hero first, she's not helpless. You cannot let your emotions get in the way of all of this! She's not even your real daughter," the man reminded his master sternly.
Ganondorf sighed deeply and turned back to face the desert once more. The sight of the sands swirling in the wind's grasp always calmed him and cleared his head.
He always forgot that the girl wasn't his daughter.
He remembered the day he picked up her unconscious form off the rocky cliffs like it was yesterday. He had been in love with her instantly; the way she had clung to his neck and instantly trusted him, giving him her heart.
She was an innocent lamb walking straight into the slaughterhouse.
She had no idea what he planned to do.
"You are correct, Zant, and I fully intend to follow through with the original plan. She will be killed for Wisdom to be secured," Ganondorf heard himself saying, as if from a distance.
Zant nodded. "Good. As for now, I will keep my spy close to them. We only need to wait for the perfect moment," he said to the Dark King. Ganondorf nodded slowly.
He was envisioning holding Zelda's cold, limp body in his arms as blood spilled from the gash his own sword made in her chest, spilling into his hands, creating puddle on the floor...
"Right. The perfect moment when victory will become a reality."