Here is yet another old fanfic that I love dearly and felt compelled to update. What started out as a long one-shot was fleshed out into a handful of chapters several years later. The story still never felt "finished" to me. So here I am again, revising once more! I hope that you enjoy the third and final version of "Darknut." Thank you for reading!
There is not a being in this mortal world who knows the truth of what I am about to confess.
Do not judge me so harshly as you read my words, telling of a story that I must release from the prison of my mind. I fear the scrutiny of what others may think of me, their Princess, and what she discovered in the Twilight. But this ordeal has burdened me greatly and I find that I must share my experience to ease the weight that has been put on my soul.
It all began when, in the early days of my imprisonment, I tried to make a desperate escape. The Twilight beasts that were put outside my door to guard me were mindless creatures, easily tricked and subdued even in my weakened state. After a hasty attack, I left their stunned bodies behind and flew down the stony steps of my tower prison.
Midna and a shaggy gray wolf had visited me just moments before. The mark of the Triforce was on the animal's left paw; the mark of the Hero of Time. A plan to release the boy trapped in the body of a beast was set in motion by the Twili girl and the pair left my tower in a hurry.
I watched them go, a sinking despair in my heart that all I could do to help them was to stay in my tower and brood. That despair sparked a wild sense of courage in me. I had already allowed Zant to take my kingdom and people prisoner. Perhaps, I could do something more!
My footsteps echoed in the eerie Twilight world as I ran through the halls of the devastated castle. The throne room was not far from my prison. I thought that if I could just reach my throne room, I could confront Zant without the Twilight minions at his side, and maybe, just maybe claim a victory over the Twilight invasion. Or at the very least, thwart him long enough to set him back or delay whatever plans he had next. It was a vain hope, but I hoped to give Midna and the Hero some time to carry out the beginning of their quest without interference.
I was almost to my Throne Room. Heavy chains bound the doors that led to the stairs. I threw myself on the chains and tugged with all my strength, but they did not budge. Even as I tried to use my abilities to loosen the binding, nothing at all happened. The chains only clinked mockingly at me.
My eyes began to sting with tears. Terrible realization washed over me and I became aware of how foolhardy it had been, running out of my tower to confront Zant on my own. I could not defeat him when he first invaded my Throne Room. Why did I think I could defeat him now? Still, I vainly pulled at the chains, hoping that the goddesses would somehow intervene.
Someone else did come to intervene, to my surprise. Someone I was not expecting.
A hand grabbed my shoulder and roughly yanked me around as I gasped in fear. All I saw at first was armor and what appeared to be a glowing white wound. I looked up and an arrogant, oddly familiar familiar face glared back down at me.
The spirit of my past lives, the bearers of Wisdom who lived before me, whispered into my subconscious. They allowed their memories to bleed into my reality, revealing the identity of an ages old enemy. All of the women who bore my name and my Triforce, long before me and in different points in history, spoke the name of the being who now loomed over me.
"Ganondorf?" I breathed, horror mingling with shock. "How is this possible? How are you alive?"
All my life, I had been told that the Gerudo king was long ago executed at the hands of the sages, decades before my birth. Now, he was here in the flesh and seemingly very much alive. The awful memory of Zant invading my home with his army of strange beasts came to mind and wisdom whispered once more. A candle suddenly began to flicker in the darkness, shining light on what could be the truth.
Surely, Ganondorf held claim to the true power behind the Twilight invasion and Zant was merely a puppet.
But I had no time to think on it. Ganondorf took a thundering step in my direction. I backed against the door, trying to quickly gather my power to defend myself. That hateful mouth curled into a sneer and his grip squeezed on my shoulder before I could muster a defense. His own power flushed out mine and I was rendered helpless. Fingers tightened on my shoulder and I cried out in pain. Mirthless laughter echoed over the stones in a mocking symphony.
"The better question is, Princess," he growled, his voice harsh and dangerously ominous. "How did you escape your tower?"
He asked as if I could answer him, but the way he had me in his grip rendered me speechless. Tighter and tighter his grasp grew and my breath threatened to stop. He was holding me with his left hand; the hand that bore the Triforce of Power. I could feel a searing heat coursing through me. The power that overwhelmed my own was his piece of the Triforce. He was using his piece of the relic against me.
Seconds passed and the pain became excruciating. I fell to the floor, my knees hitting the stones without mercy. Still, the man did not relinquish his grip. If anything, his grip grew stronger.
"Stop—" I demanded pitifully, hating myself for my blatant weakness. But how could I hide it? My vision was growing dark. The pain was too much to bear. "Stop—"
The room slipped into blackness as my conscious weakened. Ganondorf's remorseless face faded. But I did not want the last thing I saw before I passed out to be his face of my enemy. My eyes slipped over his shoulder and I gazed blankly into the room behind him. When my gaze settled on the landing where the steps led into the tiny room, I just so happened to catch a glimpse of something.
Or someone.
I realized that we had not been alone.
A hulking figure stood at the top of the stairs, partially concealed by the shadows. It looked like a knight. All that I could make out was gilded armor, head to toe, and a massive sword held in the figure's hands.
My last feverish thought before I lost consciousness was wondering if that giant knight was here to save me.
No breath. No sight. No sensation. Only darkness.
For an age, I lived in nothing. My only purpose was to exist as a shadow until my master called.
An age had passed since I was last brought to life, if it could even be called a life. Back then, I was brought back only to die as a slave in service to a great evil entity. When I perished, I was thrown back into darkness, waiting for my time to come again. I did not awaken until my master wished it. My existence entirely depended on him. My eternal fate, tied inexplicably to his.
Time did not pass as I waited. What was the passing of time to one who lived between life and death? It meant nothing, because as I awaited my call, I was essentially nothing.
My call to serve him once more did come eventually. I could feel no relief. I could feel no dread. Feelings were not mine to claim. I was not allowed such luxuries as a servant of darkness.
My newly seeing eyes clamped onto the dark form that I recognized as my master. For the briefest of moments as I was pulled from the nothingness, my soul did not yet belong to him. My soul was mine. I was allowed a glimmer of rage, of betrayal, of regret…
Then in an instant, that freeing breath of emotion was extinguished. My awakening was complete.
The servant had answered the master's call. As if the servant had any other choice but to obey.
Each day was the same. Each hour. Each minute. I took in this new incarnation of my existence with indifference. I merely plodded through the echoing world, following my master dutifully and waiting for his next command.
But my master was agitated. I could sense his distress.
"Something is wrong," he muttered grimly. My lips stayed shut, answering him with obedient silence. He barked at me to follow him; there was something amiss near the throne room.
We climbed the stairs leading to the stolen room that belonged to the displaced monarchy. A dim clinking resounded in the Twilight and my master quickened his pace. The clinking grew louder as we came to the top of the stairs and approached the doors to the throne room, chained yet unguarded.
There at the doors, desperately clutching the fortified chains was a lady dressed in royal garb. From the way my master glared hatefully at the woman, I assumed that this was the Princess of Hyrule; the one to whom stolen lands belonged. The tension emanating from my master thickened as he marched across the landing. I stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting for his command. It seemed as if he wanted to handle encountering the Princess himself.
In the hazy light, I watched as he reached out to grab her shoulder and roughly whirled her around.
A white face looked up at him, full of shock and terror.
Wide eyes roamed over his face. Recognition flickered. In an instant, the fear and surprise melted away from her features and the Princess glared back at her foe, face now full of defiance.
I could sense a change in my master. He did not expect for the Princess to be so defiant. I watched as his muscles tightened on the tender flesh of the Princess' shoulder. Pain was clear in her blue eyes but she did not falter in her defiance. Tension flooded the air as the same power that had been used to raise me from the darkness was flowing through the veins of my master. He was using his force to subdue the Princess.
"Stop—" She panted, a weak command that fell on the uncaring ears of her enemy. "Stop—"
From my spot in the shadows, I could see that, despite her valiant effort, the Princess was succumbing to the attack. The woman's gaze moved from my master and those soft blue eyes caught sight of me. Her hand rose, trembling fingers reaching out to me as if begging for my help. Emotionless and silent, I watched as the Princess' eyes rolled into the back of her head and she crumbled to the floor in a heap of silk.
My master scoffed at her prone figure lying on the cold stone.
"What a fool," he growled as he stepped over her. He turned to face me, his face furious and hard. "They are always impassioned fools, these Zeldas. No matter how many reincarnations I meet, they never change!"
Though he was angry, I could sense that he was troubled by something. Perhaps being an impassioned fool was the only way to defeat my master.
"Take her back to where she belongs," he snapped, interrupting my musings. "Obviously the guards I stationed were not strong enough, even in her weakened state. Guard her for the time being. I highly doubt that she can get past you."
I carefully walked to where the Princess lay on the floor, face down with her arms splayed before her, hair askew and skirts crumpled.
Deep in the recesses of my dead soul, I felt a twinge of pity at the indignity of it all; a proud and noble ruler, land and power stolen from her and bullied into submission. The thought passed and my fleeting emotion was quickly snuffed out. My master's influence was still too strong to allow me to feel anything for more than a moment.
So, like the cold, dutiful being that I was, I obeyed the command and scooped the Princess into my arms. I unceremoniously slung her over my shoulder, looking to my master for further instruction.
His golden eyes impassively glanced at the captive in my arms, but his mouth was tight.
"Get her out of my sight," he roughly commanded, his voice betraying a myriad of emotions. Once again, I detected the faintest trace of fear coming from my master.
Yet I could not bring myself to feel anything about it. Even curiosity. My thoughts were merely observations. Wordlessly, I turned away from him and made my way to the highest tower, instinctively knowing where to take the captive.
When I came too, I was lying face down on the cold, stone floor. The unwelcome, familiar sight of my tower room greeted me as my blurry vision cleared.
So, I had been brought back to this prison? I groaned, half from pain and half in exasperation. Slowly, carefully, I crawled to my knees. My shoulder throbbed from where Ganondorf's fingers had clutched into my flesh.
The door to the landing had been shut by whoever, or whatever, had dragged my lifeless body back to the tower. My strength returning, I shakily stood to my feet and shuffled to the door. It had not been shut before my attempt at escape. Zant likely assumed that his minions would be enough to keep me inside. I wondered what Ganondorf would put in place to guard me instead.
My hand wrapped around the bronze handle and I pushed, not knowing what to expect.
To my surprise, the door swung open easily. This was strange, I thought. Surely Ganondorf would have made sure that I would not be able to escape again. Perhaps his arrogance had made him a fool?
The door opened just a crack and I could see a sliver of the alcove beyond. Then, I heard a slight thud that echoed in the entry as the door stopped, hitting something solid. There was a flash of gold and black steel, followed by the sound of heavy footfalls. I was able to push the door open just a little more, enough that I could peek through the crack to see what was in the way.
At first, my eyes could not comprehend why that gilded armor sparked my memory. Then I remembered the seconds before I had lost consciousness, finding anything to look at except the face of the one attacking me.
The figure in the shadows. That strange knight who had not come to my aid. This was the same figure I had seen behind Ganondorf, now towering over me and blocking my only means of escape.
I gasped and jumped back in fright, fearing that I would receive some sort of repercussion from this new guard for opening the door.
Yet, nothing happened. The door stayed open and the guard did not move. My shock quickly wore off and I went back to the cracked door, wanting to see exactly what this thing was.
He, for I assumed that the armor-clad knight was a he, stood at attention. He was perfectly still. Completely unmoving.
Every inch of his tall and broad body was covered in intricately decorated armor of gold and black steel. Perhaps in order to intimidate me into submission, he had his massive sword unsheathed, the tip of the weapon sticking in the stones at his feet with his metal-clad fingers wrapped around the hilt; a menacing sight to behold. The crested helmet atop his head seemed to be looking—or pointed in my general direction, really—right at me. There was no slits for eyes. Just a few raised ridges on the face that served more as a decoration than a useful function.
Silence. No sound or movement came from the sightless helmet.
"So, you're my new guard," I questioned boldly, thinking I could provoke him into a banter and perhaps get him to let down his defences.
My new captor said nothing. I fell into silence as well, observing and watching. Did he not have the ability to speak? I could not even see the rise and fall of his chest. Was this entity even alive?
I peered into the helmet, trying to imagine what sort of face I would find beneath. I suspected that this knight was not of Twilight, but rather a creation of Ganondorf. Something about his appearance gave me the same sense of familiarity that I felt when I encountered Ganondorf earlier. The Zeldas of old were whispering to me again, telling me that in some way, I had seen this enemy before.
For a long while I stood there, peeking through the door at this stoic sentinel, trying to figure him out. He let me, but only just. By the way my door barely opened, stopped by his hulking figure, I was not going any further.
Nothing of interest was happening, and there was no point in trying to escape anymore. The sword was nearly as tall as I was, and by the looks of it, twice as heavy. With my own powers diluted by the Twilight and not knowing any weaknesses of this knight, there was no chance that I could stand against him.
I had no current choice but to close the door and retreat to the shadowy corner of my prison room.
The endless cycle of Twilight became lonely and monotonous. It was only me to keep myself company and I quickly grew tired of listening to nothing but silence and my own increasingly troubled thoughts.
My chances for reprieve were slim. Midna and the Hero would surely not return. They had a mission to accomplish. Only the most dire of needs would cause them to come back to the tower prison.
The door stayed tightly shut as I dared not venture back out to the entry and provoke the knight. But the silence droned on and on, and my mind began to slowly unravel. Never before had I been so forlorn, so vulnerable. I could not tell day from night. Nothing about this Twilight was natural. I belonged to light and day, not the cold, unforgiving world of eternal dusk.
That tower room became achingly small. I could count the paces from one side of the room to the other, and the number was abysmal. I found it difficult to breathe in that suffocating prison, becoming desperate for wider spaces. How long had it been since I ran through the corridors of my castle, looking for the throne room? The silence and the space became too much for me to handle.
I absolutely had to leave that depressing tower prison.
Against my better judgement, I found my feet wandering to the door. It had not been open in far too long. Without hesitation, I grasped the cool handle and pushed against the wooden panels. The creaking of the hinges creaked startlingly loud in the Twilight.
There he was. Standing in the exact same position that I had left him in. Part of me wondered if he had moved an inch since I last saw him. I only opened the door a crack, frightened that he would attack me if I pushed the door too far open.
There was no movement, no protest, from the silent knight. I opened my mouth, trying to find my words. It had been quite some time since I had last spoken…
"Please," I begged in a raspy voice to the gilded helmet that silently stared at me through the crack in the door. "Please, just let me have this door open. I cannot stand to be trapped in this room like an animal in a cage."
My pleas were met only with silence. I dared myself to push the door a little wider, but the knight slowly raised an armored hand and barred my way. Though I leaned my whole weight against the door, it took only a gentle push of the knight's hand to stop me from leaving.
"I promise that I will not run," I said, my pitiful words grating to my own ears. "I could not even if I tried."
The Twilight beasts were easy to subdue. This giant, hulking mass of metal and steel was far too strong for me to handle without the full use of my powers. It would take a great warrior to even stand a chance with this enemy. In vain, I pushed against the door one more time and focused my attention on my silent companion.
"Please," I whispered again, cursing myself for the tears I felt in my eyes. "I will not try to escape. I know that I am a prisoner, but please…"
I choked back a wave of emotion and tried to put on a strong façade. "I need some room to breathe. Let me have this door open. Let me at least walk around in the entry…" It was a futile request, but I had to try.
So we entered a voiceless stalemate. I stared into the eyeless helmet that stoically gazed back at me. I wondered what thoughts were swirling behind the layers of armor. Was he considering letting me have this tiny drop of freedom?
My question was soon answered when I felt the door push beneath my hand. The knight methodically closed the door. My hopes fell as I watched the slit grow smaller and smaller, all the while my strange guard and I never breaking our gaze.
Slowly, the door shut with a snap that echoed eerily in the twilight world. I stood there for a few minutes, defeated, with the lonely tower room behind me.
As foolish as it may sound, I tried again hours later.
Time passed.
I tried again several days later.
More time passed.
I did not stop trying. Out of stubbornness and a desperate need to be free of my isolated room, I tried again and again and again.
Each time I would make the same request and each time I would be calmly denied by the slow closing of the door and a blind gaze from an eyeless helmet. Yet, my constant pleading and begging must have worn him down as the days went by. It took him longer each time to deny me. Our silent stalemate would drag on and I would pray that his resolve would crumble. It would be a small, foolish victory, but one that I so greatly needed.
Then came the day when I opened the doors and the strong hands holding me back did not push them shut. My heart fluttered and I sucked in a sharp breath. What was he doing? When I pushed just a bit more, to my surprise the doors swung wide open.
I stood inside the door frame for a second, unsure of myself and waiting to see if it was a cruel joke. The knight had not left the entry, but was instead standing just beyond the threshold of the open door.
Hesitantly, I took a step out of my prison. I was not stopped.
It was a strange feeling I had, that moment he let me into the stone entryway of the tower room. The entry was hardly bigger than the room I had just left, but the air was clearer. It was new. And it felt refreshing to be in a different place.
Nervously, I glanced over at the knight. If he was carefully observing my presence, he did not show it.
I quickly stepped past him and casually wandered around the landing, looking out of the narrow, tall windows and running my fingers over the cold stone walls. When I wandered too close to the top of the stairs, I heard the groaning of metal, I hastily glanced behind me, heart pounding in my ears and fearing that he was coming to punish me.
The knight, moving at a surprising pace, strode past me and quickly made his post at the top of the stairs.
"Nothing escapes your notice, does it." I commented sardonically. I stared at him for a few more seconds.
I had never seen anything like him before. None of my men were as tall and dominating as this person, so I guessed that he wasn't a disloyal Hylian who had entered in the service of Ganondorf.
"Who are you? Or rather, what are you?" I asked, not sure why I expected a response. Silence answered me, and I gave up speaking with him.
My arms crossed over my chest as I wrapped the edges of my cloak tightly around my body. The air in the entry seemed chillier than the air in my room without the pitifully burning fire in the hearth. I shuffled to the window closest to the stairs and gazed down at the morose world beyond.
A sigh escaped me. As strange as my current predicament was, I found myself grateful to no longer have myself for company. He might have been a servant to my enemy, but his presence was not threatening or cruel, as his master's had been. Even though this knight would not speak, he was aware of my presence, His movements shadowed mine. I could see his helmet turned to me, watchful, unseen eyes beneath the black metal following my every move. In a way that I found unable to simply explain, to have him there was an odd comfort.
Though I was now allowed to have a reprieve from my tower, the silence was still smothering. Endless days had passed without me hearing the voice of another creature. The Twili beasts were unintelligible, speaking in harsh screeches. I refused to find companionship in Zant, not that he ever bothered to darken my door.
It was in my silent guardian that I would eventually find strange company.
Here in this tower, far from the presence of my Master, I could sense his influence growing weaker. There were brief moments of respite when I felt my own voice whisper louder than his.
My command that I had to follow was to stay here and keep the Princess from escaping. Days turned into weeks and I dutifully stood at attention in front of her door. Each time that she attempted to open the door, loyalty to my master would urge me to keep her inside. So despite her protests, I would lift my hand and shut her in.
But her pleas did not fall on deaf ears. That pity I had felt before when my Master attacked her still lingered within me. As time wore on, her request would settle into my soul a little more with each attempt. The longer I stayed away from my master, the stronger my own will grew.
And my will did not believe that it would be disastrous to let her have freedom to walk in the entry. She could not fight me. I would simply block the stairs and she would be a fool to try and get past me there.
So the day came when those stormy blue eyes peeked at my armor through the crack in the door and I let her in. The second that the Princess came too close to the stairs, I blocked her way. Her response to that was a cutting remark, but she did not push back or try to leave.
Then she spoke to me. She asked who I was. What I was. I could not answer. The shadowy force that bound me to my Master would not free me enough to speak for myself. It was nothing short of a miracle that I had untangled myself enough to bend the rules for the Princess.
When I did not answer her, the Princess turned from me and gazed out of the window, falling into her own musings. I watched her, mostly as a guard, but a part of me deep down, the part that was free of the Master's influence, wanted to observe her. I had not taken an interest in another being since before my captivity.
And I found observing her to be rather pleasant.
As I watched her stare out the window, echoes of elation resounded in my dead soul. For the first time in ages, I had acted of my own accord.
I broke the rules. I disobeyed a command.
Though my own emotions and thoughts and feelings were stripped away and I lived in a hazy, subdued existence, something was stirring within me. Something that this Princess had unknowingly kindled.
Whatever it was about her that drew me out of the shadows, I wanted to find out.