Note: Sorry this took so long to get out. I mostly work on these chapters on particular computers, and I didn't have access to those computers most of the time of late, and when I did, they had no access to fanfiction. This has made working on this chapter very difficult. None of the less I have pressed on and got this sucker done!

I am looking for an editor.

Review if you want the next chapter sooner!

Majora's War - Part 4

-Western Qin-

Her eyes opened and she gasped.

Her eyes dilated in fear and pain, and the fear of more to come. She lashed out against the restraints against her, binding her down to the ground. The ropes gave to a small degree, but not enough to allow more then the smallest movement. Light blinded her and she heard nothing but her own painful, desperate screams.

Grasping out, she dug her bloody fingers in the dirt, hoping for something, anything. Physical contact hurt. Her clothes burned. Her hands found the rope and where the ropes entered the ground. She threw herself immediately into the task of pulling on them, tugging them out of the ground. The ropes would not tear, but they did come out by scant inches. The pressure holding her down lessened, and she scrambled out of the chains.

Her feet momentarily slipped on a blank mask. Dirt covered her and dried blood crusted on her. She shoved her feet into the ground, found a bit of purchase, and leaped away. Her legs gave out almost immediately and she fell onto the roots of a tree, but it was enough. She breathed in relief and closed her eyes as tears stirred. She held her arm and flinched as a spike of pain told her there was something wrong all the way at the shoulder. Her every sense screamed and all she wanted was for a moment, just a moment. A moment of peace.

As if in response to her silent prayer: nothing happened. The wind was gentle. Nothing stirred. She felt burned, but nothing more. For a moment it was like the world sat still around her.

She opened her eyes and looked down. A canopy of fallen leaves and roots lay before her. Beneath the roots of the tree was the crevice she found herself in. There was no rope fashioned by man. There was no chain and no restraints. She wasn't branded this day and the scratches on her were not from lashes of a whip. Instead there was birdsong and the rustling of leaves. There was the brushing of wind through the leaves and the swaying of thin branches. There was sudden movement of a skiddish animal leaping out from hiding away from her, not a spear being raised in ambush. There was only nature.

Snarling drew her attention and her breath escaped her. Out to the corner of her eye was movement that drew closer until it was fully in view. A large dog stepped out of the brush, its predatory eyes on her, its teeth bared. Her blood ran cold in her veins. If she ran, it would just chase her. If she didn't move, it wouldn't just ignore her, as it already clearly saw her.

Her attention snapped to a second newcomer as a voice came after the dog.

"Chi t niig olson uu, kh mini? Odoo amarkhan, t niig b al."

Out of the brush following the dog was a dark-skinned man. He wore furs and hide as clothing, and had heavy leather beneath. In his hand was a wooden spear and rattan shield and on his hip was an axe and on his back was a short bow and quiver with a few arrows.

"Dragmire? Aa, odoo ene khen be? Chi mash ikh uilj baigaa yum uu?"

She backed away slowly. The giant dog took a step forward and she froze. The man barked an order, the dog froze, and the man approached a bit more. He drove his spear down and left it behind to put a hand out slowly.

"Khervee bi t niig z vsh r khg i bol ter gomdokhg i. Sanaa b zov ... Dragmire end yuu khiij baina ve? Chi gantsaaraa yuu? Chi ingej ikh uilj baisan uu?"

The woman gulped. Seeing the man, seeing him armed, seeing the large wolf whose height reached up to the man's hip, and a general sensation that she has been in pain a very long time, left her skittish and trembling. The senseless rambling didn't help either. Was he among the men to tie her up?

She found enough voice to whisper, "I-I'm sorry, I don't understand."

The man blinked in surprise and froze. It lasted but a moment before he relaxed and chuckled. "Ah, you yarikh Qin?"

She didn't know what 'yariikh' meant, but she was Qin. She nodded. His curiosity relaxed her by a width of a hair. It seemed he didn't know her, so he likely was not involved with whatever her situation was.

"I say uh- 'lax. Part'dner no hurt-" he motioned to the wolf. "'less I zakhialga I uh- let." So the wolf wouldn't hurt her unless he let him. That's comforting. He continued, "Wha' Dragmire here? You 'lone? How you uh- this " He motioned to her up and down.

"I don't know how I came here." She answered. "I don't even know where here is." He looked confused, so she tried again, "Where is here?"

"Here be Majora."

"Majora?!" She asked. She couldn't believe it. What was she doing to the west of Qin? Now that she was looking, a mountain was towering above her from nearby. She was no longer in the plains of Qin, but the mountains of Majora.

The man watched her process this. He was silent for a moment before the moment was interrupted by a growl, and not from the wolf. He chuckled while her face grew as red as her hair. She didn't remember the last time she ate. He motioned her forward and said, "Come. We take you to Majora. We tejeel you. uh- " He motioned to his mouth in a motion signifying eating.

She didn't move. She couldn't. She didn't want to follow him, as her instincts screamed danger despite his attempts to not spook her, but she also didn't know where to go, what direction to go in, and she felt too weak to flee anyway. She was left in a place of both wanting to flee and yet not able to, and all while being tempted to follow and deal with her hunger. Now that her stomach was having input on her decisions, she felt her body weaken by the second. Seeing her trepidation, the man approached her, and nudged her forward. It was enough to get her moving.

She didn't know how long they walked. The trek was largely uphill and difficult, and the man was patient and helpful. After a time they came to a pass overlooked by a couple mountain men and entered it. The pass expanded greatly and came to a bridge. They crossed the bridge and stopped momentarily. Her eyes widened on what she saw.

The village of Majora was massive to her and filled out the entire side of a mountain cliff, and then filled out into the valley below. Unbeknownst to her, it was expanding rapidly since its conquest of other tribes. The valley extended northward and swerved eastward towards Qin. There was found a small border between this valley and Qin's plains at a certain point where, if worked on and carved out, would allow easier access. It would take some work clearing the pass and building a border-gate, but it was a subject of great influence and debate. The Majora were surrounded by mountains and felt closed off, but of late the opportunity was growing to have proper trade through a pass larger than a few feet wide and not requiring several days of tedious, dangerous, slow trudging.

Also of note is that the construction was a joint-project between Zelda's faction and the Majora elders. Ryo had already been scouting the land and proposing a road be built, but the Majora favored Zelda since the Majora-Mitagi debate.

In the distance the Dragmire woman saw a gathering of horsemen and wolves in the valley leave at a gallop. It looked like a small war party.

The man asked around in his tongue questions, and lead her towards the valley. It was market hours and the stands were out and on display. Her mouth watered from the smell of bread and vegetables. They did not stop immediately, but entered the market as if in search.

A loud ruckus met her ears as a man was flung in the distance, and the man to lead her groaned. They had found their quarry.

They entered the growing crowd. Inside was a number of mountain men wrestling with a Dragmire. They had him outnumbered six to one, but they were the ones finding difficulty in the exchange. The Dragmire roared, threw himself at them with his hands outreached, grabbed them, and threw them like dolls. He crushed wooden tables and stands beneath them. His punches entered one's gut and he collapsed vomiting all over his own feet. A third grabbed a wooden pole and broke it on the Dragmire's back, and then whimpered as he only succeeded in provoking him. The fight continued for several minutes before the seven managed to crawl away and the Dragmire was left huffing and puffing angrily in the midst of destruction. His red hair flew wildly in the winds like fire, his eyes pierced them with ferocity as a demon, and on his hands were two sets of marks. On one hand was the golden-red triangular mark of Din, and on the other was the pentagon mark of Twilight.

The man leading the Dragmire woman in question, gulped, and entered the dispersing crowd. "Ezen mini, Dragmair. Ene yuu baisan be?"

("My lord, Dragmire. What happened here?")

Ganondorf Dragmire regarded the man cooley. He huffed, closed his eyes, breathed, and took a moment to calm enough to not tear the newcomer's head off. He answered, "Ted namaig khuurch chadna gej bodson sh dee! Majoragiin khargis khertsgii kh m s kh rtel namaig khuurakhaas il teigeer meddeg bolovch shineer irsen kh m st z vkh n minii khen bolokh talaar surgamj kheregtei baikh shig baina! Tedniig yalan diilekh ni kh ndetgeliig surakhad khangalttai baisan gej ta bodoj baina."

("They thought they could cheat me! Even the Majora scoundrels know better than to cheat me, but it seems the newcomers need a lesson in just who I am! You would think conquering them would have been enough for them to learn respect.")

Ganondorf huffed. He took the ruins of carts and stands and put them together to the side. The owners of the products likely would not be coming back for them soon after the beating he gave them.

He continued, "Namaig ezen bitgii duudaarai. Bi ezen bish. Bi alifa bish. Bi avarga, tsaazlagch kh n bolovch ezen khaanaas ch l l gds n. Bi khamgiin ikhdee byeta bolno."

("Do not call me lord. I am no lord. I am no alpha. I am a champion and executioner, but I am relieved of lordship. At most I am beta.")

"Z geer dee. Byeta, minii d ng j khoid z g yavakhyg kharsan dainy zorilgo yuu ve? Yaagaad bi olon kh m siin dund mangasuudyn shivnee sonsdog ve?"

("Alright. But, Beta, what is the purpose of the war party I just saw departing the northern pass? Why do I hear whispers of monsters in the crowd?")

Ganondorf rolled his shoulders up. He shrugged. "Bi alifa baikhg i bolson. Bi dain z vl ld baikhaa bolison, akhmadyn z vl ld baikhaa bolison, temdeglel khiikh alban tushaal baikhg i baina. Bi yaaj medekh yostoi ve?"

("I am no longer alpha. I am no longer on the war council nor among the eldership nor have any position of note. How should I know?")

It was at this time Ganondorf saw the Dragmire woman. Her hair stood out in the crowd as well as her red eyes. Her hair was over her face so he could not see her plainly, but his demeaner was shocked no less.

"Dragmire?" He gasped.

Her escort nodded and motioned to her. He said, "Tiim, bi t nii gt zerleg gazart olov. Mash ikh orilj, shuugian tarisan bolovch ter namaig olson yum. Ter amarkhan aidag, lsd g. Ter khaanaas irsniig bi medekhg i baina."

("Yes, I found her in the wilds east. There was a great deal of yelling and commotion, but she was all I found. She is easily frightened and hungry. I do not know where she has come from.")

"Ter zugtsan bool shig kharagdaj baina."

("She looks like an escaped slave.")

"Bi ch bas tegj bodoj baina. Tsingiin tukhai bol Tsin udakhg i Dragmire-iig il ikh avchirdag gesen tsuu yaria baidag. Ter ene tukhai sonsson kh m siin neg baij bolok endees zugtjee."

("I think so too. Rumor is that the Qin are bringing more Dragmire soon. She could be one of them who heard of the matter and fled here herself.")

Ganondorf's eyes widened briefly. He had wondered if Zelda would go through with her promise since the Majora-Mitagi debate, but it seemed she would. It was humbling to think about. He never would have thought in first meeting her that she would strive so hard to reverse the destruction done by Qin to their allies. She was young too. He thought he was a young leader, being twenty when she approached him. She was practically a child on that destined day.

It had only been a few moons since he left Qin and returned to the mountains, and for most of it he considered many matters, including that of Zelda and Link. The words given by Zelda and the Rebellious Hero struck a chord in him. He had no doubt in his soul the two were kin to him in some way. The Majora were his adopted family, and the Dragmire were his blood family, but these two were his soul's family just as much. He didn't know how to feel about it. It was difficult to think about. The princess was difficult and the former-slave was annoying, but he found himself trusting them more than his own people.

He despised people as a general concept and on a personal level. People were scum and trash, worms who cheated each other, lied like cowards, and beat down on the weak for amusement. He saw the deeds of men and could only think of them in anger and disdain. He could put up with them, but in private he wished he could bash skulls more often then he allowed himself. The princess and soldier of Qin he didn't despise on a personal level. That understanding was about as far as he had come thus far.

He motioned the Majoran soldier away, said he would take care of it from here, and approached her. He looked down at her. With her head down he couldn't make out anything about her beyond the head of hair. All the same, she was Dragmire.

"You look hungry." He observed in Qin's language. She nodded. Good, that meant she understood him. He grabbed his bag, pulled out a loaf of bread, broke off a portion of it, and placed it in her hand. "Here. Eat. Survive."

She raised her head just enough to look at him. "What comes next?"

"Right now, surviving is enough," Ganondorf grunted.

While she ate the bread provided, Ganondorf took a good look at her. Her clothing was burnt but reminiscent of the middle-class. It naturally wasn't anything good like silk or of the high class, but it also wasn't simple rags expected of a slave.

He considered what to do with her. Was there someone in Majora he could bring her to? Who provided housing to a Dragmire? Likely he could bring her to the alpha and she would be taken care of, but he had an impulse to see to the matter personally. Was she a slave who heard of the Dragmire freedom offered and left of her own volition? Was she sent? From where did she come?

Ganondorf sighed and ran his hands over his face in aggravation. He had so many questions and didn't know which were important and pertinent.

"Something the matter?" The woman asked, suddenly twitchy at his movement.

"Yes and no," He answered. "I have so many questions, both for you and the chief. Questions pertaining to your situation. Questions pertaining to our clan and how the movement will be resolved. Where you came from, where are you going, and who is to house you if you are to stay. Things that are important matters but not dangerous matters, if you follow."

"I do, I am sorry, it seems I have burdened you somehow." The woman whispered sadly.

He clenched his fist. Her quietness and submission aggravated him, but he put the emotion away and decided it was a result of slavery. Nothing that was her fault. Ganondorf shrugged. "No burden that cannot be lifted. It just means I have to meet with some people and do something I hate being involved."

When she was done eating, Ganondorf inquired further. She didn't remember where she came from nor remembered where she was going nor remembered her name. All she remembered was pain, a pain and burning that seemed endless wherever it was. Her skittish nature angered him and her answers troubled him. When he had his questions answered so unsatisfactorily, he took her to the chief of Majora. Nabooru had taken on his home, as it was the house of the chief.

"Ganon!" Nabooru greeted him as he approached. Her wolf raised his head and bared his teeth as the Dragmire approached, and a couple of the Majora around eyed him. "Hush!" Nabooru snapped. "Ganon, neleed khugatsaa ng rs n baina. Sh tleg kherkhen irdeg ve?"

("Ganon, it has been a while. How comes the worship?")

Ganondorf grunted. "Etses t gsg lg i! Odoo khaana ch baikhg i! Gekhdee bi ireeg i yum baina. Bi t nees bolj irsen. Ter z vkh n Q-iin kheleer yaridag tul zaaval yariarai." Ganondorf stepped aside for Nabooru to see the other Dragmire.

("Endlessly! Nowhere! But that is not why I have come. I have come because of her. She speaks only the tongue of Qin, so please speak accordingly.")

"Bi Dragmire." Nabooru observed. She changed language. "This is earlier than I expected."

"I think she is separate from the caravan."

"Why would you say that?" Nabooru questioned. Ganondorf explained the Dragmire's situation as he knew it, and Nabooru nodded thoughtfully when he was done. "She has been through a lot." Nabooru put a hand on the Dragmire woman's head and pushed her down enough to look at her. She rummaged through her hair and patted her when she was done and assured the woman. "I don't see any recent wounds, bumps, or scars. A few old ones speaking of abuse, but you haven't suffered any head injuries."

"Then why does she not remember anything?" Ganondorf questioned.

"It sounds like what she has experienced is too much, simply." Nabooru replied. "You remember how you were, or rather, you don't."

Ganondorf nodded. Seeing the Dragmire woman questioning look, he explained, "I don't remember my past. Dragmire have an earned reputation for muteness in trauma or intense emotion. The problem is I don't remember my childhood because I was in the thralls of possession."

"Perhaps, but it could be a connection."

"You mean to say she was possessed?"

"No, but it could be there are multiple reasons why you don't remember your childhood. Both the possession and the intensity of emotion as being too much. It could just be that muteness is the first step and failing memory is a later step."

"Who is to say," Ganondorf figured. He turned to the Dragmire woman. "But it is at the very least an idea. Provided you were not possessed, we can have hope the memory will return." He returned to Nabooru. "As for housing "

Nabooru flinched. "Yeah "

"You mean that as if to say there is no housing for her." Ganondorf narrowed his brows. "What of the rest of my clan?"

"Ganon..."

"How much have I missed? What is happening?" Ganondorf stressed.

"There will be room enough when the Dragmire arrive."

"As if to say there isn't yet. What have we been doing? I know I have been away in worship but I expected the matter to be handled competitantly."

Nabooru sighed and looked on him with a hint of... pity. "Okay, okay. The outreach for families to take a Dragmire in as a guest has been... difficult. The construction of housing has been slow as the men... refuse."

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes angrily. He had an idea of why she would say this, but he needed to hear it. He clenched his jaw tightly. "And why would they refuse?"

"Among the workforce there are those who work, and those that don't. Those that don't refuse to because they reject your clan. Those that refuse say 'Why should we bring demon-worshippers here? Did they not cause us all to flee the plains? Did they not cause the deaths of many cla-'"

Ganondorf shot his fist to the side and impaled it firmly into the wooden wall. His breathes came out slow, heavy, controlled, almost steaming with rage. His red eyes burned as fire and his fiery hair glowed in the shadows. He did not say a word. His anger was undescribable. The woman watched him fearfully, warily, incase he snapped. Nabooru knew the degree of control he held over himself, but she also knew the bottomless rage he kept a lid on.

After a long moment, he said, "The Majora know to fear me, and to respect me! The Majora, having been given mercy by the Fae, have grown to share mercy as well when seen fit alongside the rage of war. It is not Majora who whispers this evil, is it?"

Nabooru answered, "A few Majora have been brought to agree with the whispering, but mostly it is the conquered who whisper it." Ganondorf closed his eyes and sighed. Nabooru continued, "The Majora have grown in your conquest, but this growth has its implications. The clans we have forced to cede to us have voices, and those voices do not speak to the same tune as the rest of us."

"Make them submit!"

Nabooru snapped, "You no longer lead! And even if I were to force the issue, to what degree shall force be rendered? Are we to be slave owners who force our own to work towards the freedom of other slaves? If you must know, I have already set in motion for the whispers to be resolved. Those that refuse to work will not be paid, and we are finding more to do the work. It will take a little longer than you and I would like, but there will be room for the Dragmire. What worries me is not the housing, but the people. That is the problem I forsee. They grumble now, but what of when the Dragmire arrive? Then who will lead the Dragmire? Who will inspire them? Who will speak for them as the other clans? When the Dragmire arrive we will have to sort through them and select one who will speak for them, but their clan leader will need to be one who can keep them safe."

The thoughts troubled Ganondorf. He shook his head weerily. "I detest this."

"The feeling is mutual." Nabooru smiled. "If you wish to have a voice in this, I will listen. But the best thing you can do is return to your home, give this woman-" Nabooru nodded towards the Dragmire woman, "an abode for a time, and we will sort this out."

Ganondorf breathed in and out slowly. His anger disipated and left him empty. There was nothing to be done for now. There was nothing he could do for now. "Fine. One final question. What of the hunting party to go to the north? I have not seen hunting parties so large since I was in the ring fighting monsters."

"That is a proper comparison." Nabooru nodded. "There was reports from our border that a monster was sighted in Qin near Tetsu. The hunting party is to scout the area and bring it down if there is one."

Ganondorf raised an eyebrow. He nodded and said, "Good luck. Do me a favor, let me know how it goes? I have not heard of monsters entering the plains."

"I will."

Ganondorf departed with the Dragmire woman and started the trek home. As he walked, he silently contemplated things. The appearance of a monster in Qin was unusual. Monsters had always been hunted and found in the mountains, as they hid from the large walls and speared armies of Qin. A monster can handle many men, but no monster could fight a thousand, ten thousand, and much less a hundred thousand and Qin had several hundred thousands. What would bring a monster from the mountains? AS territortial as they are, were they forced out and cast out to seek new territory?

He shook the thoughts away. There was no telling.

Ganondorf's new home was a small log cabin on the other side of the mountain just outside of Majora. It was isolated and distant from others. A clearing down the hill showed a large number of miniature stone piles, something that piqued the woman's curiosity, and in sight was a stream. Dead animals hung from the trees to be skinned and a pile of skins stacked high against the side of it. Smoke billowed out of the side and a good smell passed in the air.

"Looks like Malon is back from her hunting trip with her friends," Ganondorf commented as they neared. "We have already eaten a bit, but she will be ticked if we don't eat some of what she is preparing." He rolled his eyes but smiled in good nature. He looked to the woman who followed him. She was still infuriatingly timid. She was also dirty and bloody. "Before we enter, lets get you cleaned up. There is a stream there. Go and do what you can to clean yourself up. I will send Malon out with something you can wear."

The woman nodded and watched as he entered the hut with her head down. A small smile crossed her lips. The woods were quiet and peaceful and still. That was... nice. The man also short-tempered and had a powerful presence, but he was controlled and despite the aggression seemed to have a bit of a heart. He was concerned for the Dragmire clearly and was angered on behalf of others, not just himself.

She made her way to the stream. Amazingly, the water was warm. At first she stripped, but thought better of it. She didn't have other clothes, didn't know if Ganondorf did for her, and didn't want for him to stumble on her otherwise indecent. So she bathed as best she could, rubbing the dirt and blood out, and scrubbed her rags as best she could as well. She rubbed enough dirt out of her face and hair to darken the water around her, and she moved her Dragmire hair back behind her head. She sighed contently.

A crash drew her attention. She looked up to see a young woman standing before her on dry land, a pile of clothes fallen to her feet. The intruder's hair was as red as her own, but her skin was whiter than any of the Majora and wasn't dark skinned like Ganondorf and herself. Most of all, she was drawn to the intruder's eyes. They were wide, surprised, and most of all, familiar somehow.

"Mother?"