Link sits with his back to a broad oak tree, studying the Sheikah slate intently. The day is warm, and the sun leaves dappled shadows where it shines through the trees. There's crickets buzzing in the long grass out of sight, and high above a bird of prey wheels in the cloudless sky. Somewhere close by, a pot bubbles with some sort of stew, and the smell of it fills the air. As far as days go, it's very nearly perfect.

The first leg of the journey from Kakariko to Hateno was easy enough, but now that he's crossed over into a new region, the Slate's map has run out. He managed to spot what he thinks is the East Necluda tower a few days ago while exploring the mountains south of Kakariko, and marked it. But the tower is still a ways away, and the terrain is so hilly it's impossible to tell exactly what lies between him and it. He'll have to be more careful; the going will be slower from here on out.

(That, and bokoblins keep hiding behind boulders to try and ambush him, which keeps delaying him. He wonders if those tactics work on the average traveller; they definitely haven't had much luck with him so far.)

Despite it being almost two full weeks since he woke up, he remembers very little more than when he first opened his eyes. He still doesn't remember Impa despite having met her (again?), though she clearly recognized him. More than recognized him; it was clear from the warmth in her voice they'd been close before the hundred-year slumber that stole away his past. Even though she's functionally a stranger to him now, he feels strangely guilty he wasn't able to greet her as a friend. Though he's still not sure if her assertion he hasn't changed a bit is reassuring or not.

None of the geography is he's passed on his way here is familiar, either; not the Dueling Peaks, and not Kakariko, though he clearly must have visited before at some point; nothing. He wonders if he's been this far east before. He wonders just what his life had been like, before he woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection knowing his own name and how to swing a weapon and almost nothing else.

… He remembers the Princess. He thinks. Sort of. He sees flashes of spun-gold hair and porcelain skin in his dreams some nights, and he's fairly sure it's her. He doesn't know why just the thought of her is enough to make his heart squeeze in his chest. Perhaps it's simply because he failed in his duties as her appointed knight. That failure is the only reason she's trapped in Hyrule Castle, doing the job he couldn't.

He feels something nudge his shoulder, breaking his train of thought, and looks up. His horse, a chestnut mare he caught near the Dueling Peaks Stable and named Telma, is looking at him soulfully. He snorts and pulls an apple from his pack, offering it to her absently.

"Anyone would think you were starving," he smiles, rubbing her nose. She snorts affectionately into his palm.

He looks over to his stew and estimates it's probably done by now. A taste confirms this, and he portions it out into a few bottles he bought in Kakariko before putting out the fire and carefully packing away his things. Whatever secrets are lying hidden in his past, or inside his own head, he's not going to unlock them sitting down.

He'll have time to think about his missing memories more later. For now, the sun is warm on his face, and he has somewhere to go. For now, that's enough.


With his plan – such as it was – to reclaim his throne now gone, Ganon finds himself adrift, literally and metaphorically. He returns to the Outskirt Stable just a few days after his departure, feeling hollow; Embry sees his brittle expression and wisely chooses to say nothing of his rapid reappearance.

He's had some time to think about his next move while traveling back up the canyon, but no great idea has presented itself. There's simply too much he doesn't know about the situation, and his memories are jumbled, fragmented in ways he can't explain, fuzzier the more recent they are – the more he'd been consumed by the Calamity. Everything from his ten thousand year imprisonment is just… flashes.

He doesn't know why the Princess was alone when he saw her, or how she'd gotten there, inside the beast. Did it trap her there, in the castle? Did she trap it?

He asks about Hyrule Castle at the stable and learns it's considered so dangerous nobody dares come within a mile of the walls. Unfortunate, as it means nobody's likely to know what's actually going on inside.

He doesn't know where the Hero is, either. Surely, surely the boy will assault Hyrule Castle at some point, Ganon thinks. His drive to save the Princess has never been anything less than formidable, no matter the circumstances. If he's extremely lucky, the Hero – wherever he is – is already working to defeat Demise once more. But Ganon knows better than to rely on his luck.

And then, of course, there's the worst-case scenario: that there is no Hero, or he's dead already, and that is why the Princess appeared before him entirely alone. It's certainly a possibility. It wouldn't even be the first time.

If that's the case then he's probably damned already. He knows there's no way the Princess alone can win against the beast; she might be Hylia's avatar, but the monstrosity is Demise, the Demon King itself. And it has his piece of the triforce. Without the Hero around to tip the scales in their favor, or the strength of an entire kingdom to pick up the slack, the most the Princess can do is stave it off. In that case it would only be a matter of time before it inevitably triumphed over the girl, and at that point—

At that point his only options would be either to ride as far as possible from Hyrule and hope the demon doesn't come after him – unlikely – or to stay and try to shield the Gerudo from the fallout however he can, for as long as he can.

Neither are pleasant options to contemplate.

This then, he supposes, is what his next move should be: to find out exactly what's going on. Once he knows, he can figure out how to deal with the situation. That night, lying in one of the Outskirt Stable's too-small beds, he takes stock of what he knows of the Hero and finds it wanting: a youth (always), blond (mostly) with blue eyes (more often than not), wearing green (usually). The damned boy's appearance has shifted enough over the millennia for a physical description to be just this side of useless, and learning about him was never a priority when he knew the boy would inevitably show up if he simply waited. The only true constants Ganon knows of are his skill in battle, and the Goddess-blessed sword he carries.

He asks around the stable to see if any battle-hardened travelers wielding unusual blades have passed through, but the closest he gets is a girl who claims she's waiting for the Hero of Legend under a tree. She's never actually seen him, however, and neither has anyone else. If nobody here has encountered the Hero, he thinks, then he must continue the search elsewhere. Until all his options are exhausted. He'll allow himself nothing less.

The desert does not breed daisies, Nabooru's voice laughs in his memory, echoing across millennia.

The following morning he asks Embry for a map and directions.

"I wish to reacquaint myself with Hyrule and its people," he tells the stablemaster. "Where would you suggest I travel first?"

Embry hums and stares down at the map. "Well, Rito Village is probably the closest settlement – but you came from the north, so you've probably seen it already, huh?"

Ganon nods. A bald-faced lie, but the stablemaster has to think he came from somewhere, after all. He files the information away.

"Well, on the other side of Hyrule Field there's the River Hylia – Riverside Stable's there, pretty well-traveled. It's famous for its scenery, you should pay it a visit if you haven't seen it before! Then… let me see." He scratches the side of his head, drawing a finger across the map. "Then there's Zora's Domain to the north and the Dueling Peaks and Dueling Peaks Stable to the east, and then near the coast there's Hateno! Oh, and Kakariko is supposedly somewhere around the Pillars of Levia, though I've never been there myself. But if you want to meet people, heading east isn't a bad idea, I'd say."

Kakariko. A damn shame that, outside of the Gerudo, the Sheikah are the most likely to know his identity and recognize him, else his next step would be clear. If anyone would know the Hero's whereabouts, it would be the Sheikah tribe. But he can hardly stroll into the town to ask. He gives some consideration to the idea of using magic to disguise himself, but quickly discards it. Even if his magic were up to the task of sustaining an illusion for long enough to get answers (which it is not), the Sheikah have magic of their own. It's the entire reason the tribe had been chosen to be the royal family's attendants in the first place, after all. They'd most likely be able to spot the illusion. Still, the thought that information on the Hero's location might be there is tantalizing. He files it away as a last resort.

Embry recommends that he avoid central Hyrule Field on account of the danger posed by the Guardians – which turns out to be the name for those insect-like automatons – an assessment Ganon wholeheartedly agrees with, at least while his magic is shot. Instead, Embry explains, he should follow the road south again and turn east before the Gerudo Canyon entrance.

Ganon wastes no time in giving his thanks and setting out. As he passes by the fork that leads to the canyon, he spares one last glance at the sheer cliffs that protect his homeland, burnt rust in the first light of dawn, before they slip out of view. The road east runs past an enormous plateau, still supported by the remains of the massive buttresses built to shore up the walls. A subtle shiver runs through him as he looks up at the top of the wall. It feels significant, somehow. Some powerful magic has left its mark on the place.

He travels slowly, taking time to explore the surrounding area, pushing as far north into Hyrule Field as he dares before swinging eastward, always following the main roads. He finds a claymore hidden in a chest in a hollowed-out building, still in good condition, and it's much more suited to his stature. It's still light enough to wield one-handed, though, obviously intended for Hylian rather than Gerudo physique.

He learns more as he travels; he asks questions of everyone he meets, secure in his anonymity as a passing stranger on the road. He learns of the Great Calamity that wrought near-total destruction to the kingdom a century ago, of the precarious existence the remnants of Hyrule have eked out ever since.

An entire century since Demise made its reappearance and brought Hyrule to ruin. Was the Hero not there at the time? If he was, and he survived the initial devastation, he'd be positively ancient by now – is that why nobody's encountered a boy bearing the sealing sword? Every new fact he learns leaves him with more questions than before.

Close to the Riverside Stable, he finds the first person who seems to know anything about Hyrule Kingdom before its fall. She introduces herself as Traysi, and tells him she 'specializes in rumors'.

Good enough, he supposes.

He asks her if she knows anything about a warrior who fought the Calamity, and her eyes light up. "Oh, you mean the Champions?" she asks.

"The… Champions?"

"Yeah, you know – the knights that guarded the Princess a hundred years ago! So according to legend, only the best and bravest of Hyrule's knights got the honor of guarding the royal family! But then the Champions were even better than that, and they guarded the Princess! Or… maybe they worked for her, or maybe she was a Champion too? Nobody's really sure," she shrugs.

"They say when the Calamity came a century ago everyone inside Hyrule Castle died, and the Champions died too," she continues. "Maybe they died defending the Princess? But everyone who'd know for sure is, y'know, dead, so." She shrugs again, with a smile that's entirely too bright for such a grim topic. The Hylian penchant for constantly smiling makes his skin crawl. "But they say you can still find a ton of gear in Hyrule Castle, so maybe there's some stuff from the Champions too! It's a total five-star rumor!"

A chill runs over him, totally at odds with the sunny day and the cheerfulness of the Hylian in front of him. Champions, guarding the Princess of Hyrule. What if the Hero was one of these individuals? It would have been a logical place for him to be, at the Princess' side, defending her from the Calamity.

And now the Champions are all dead.

It doesn't bode well for him.


Riverside Stable certainly lives up to its reputation. It lies nestled between sun-soaked fields and the wide Hylia River, which glitters like diamonds in the afternoon light. To the north and south, the road winds pleasantly between the hills and forests, off towards the mountains. Under different circumstances, he might have been content to stop and take in the quiet rushing of the river. At the moment, however, the beauty of the landscape is utterly lost on Ganon.

Everything he's learned has either been confusing, or discouraging; now, more than two weeks after his awakening, the first good piece of information he's had points solidly to the worst-case scenario. He's forced to face the increasingly inescapable conclusion that the Hero is most likely dead, if he was ever there at all. Perhaps the Princess separated him from the Malice as some sort of last-ditch effort to defeat it herself. Obviously, it hasn't worked. All it's done is condemn him to wander the remains of the kingdom until the Malice wins, and when it comes for him next he will be powerless to stop it.

He hasn't felt this frustrated and helpless since he was a boy, watching his people starve and unable to do anything about it.

Damn you, he thinks, looking north-west to where Hyrule Castle looms, the black smoke turning it into a dark smudge on the horizon.

Nobody at the Riverside Stable has encountered a boy with a blessed blade, either.


A day after leaving the Riverside Stable, Ganon wakes up with a feeling of sharp anxiety that he can't explain gnawing away at his bones. There's a tension between his shoulder blades and at the back of his neck that must have set in while he was asleep; it feels almost exactly like knowing an ambush lies ahead, but not where. The feeling only grows more intense as the day goes on, and he catches himself glancing over his shoulder more than once. It must have a source, he knows, this feeling of unease – like dragging a bow across an out-of-tune string, resonant but off. But he's damned if he can pinpoint it: it feels like it's in the very air he's breathing, surrounding him.

It's only once the moon rises that night, blood red, that he realizes he was right.

The Malice. The Blood Moon must be the peak of its influence, if that's when it reaches out to resurrect the creatures under its control. That's why his skin's been crawling all day.

By the time the moon is halfway to its zenith he can smell the ozone tang of dark magic; a little while later and starts to see it, too: tendrils of black mist flecked with glowing pink rising from the earth, as if the land itself is sick with it. Perhaps it is. There's so much magic free in the air he can feel the pressure build behind his eyes – he's almost tempted to see if he can siphon it for his own use, to bolster his weakened magic, but siphoning the Calamity's own magic feels like a good way to draw its attention.

He barely sleeps that night, and when he does, his dreams are haunted by a voice he can only half-hear.

At least, he reflects as he packs up his camp the next morning, groggy and sleep-deprived and with an annoying ache somewhere under his ribs, the passing of the Blood Moon has lifted some of the tension he'd been carrying around from his shoulders. He finds he can actually appreciate the morning sun, the grass swaying in the wind, and the distant murmur of the river as he draws closer to Proxim Bridge.

His journey so far has been mostly undisturbed by monsters, but as he approaches the East Post Ruins, he sees that's about to come to an end: a band of moblins and bokoblins is currently occupying them. Ganon dismounts his horse and cantilevers himself up into the branches of a sturdy tree. He counts four moblins and three bokoblins, though there might be more of the latter hiding in the ruins.

His new claymore, however, proves more than equal to the task. He draws the moblins away one by one simply by throwing rocks to get their attention; despite their size and the long clubs they carry, Ganon's reach with the claymore is almost as great, and he's far faster. They don't have a chance against him one-on-one, but he's not here for a fair fight. Once the last one falls, he takes on the bokoblins all at once.

This sort of behavior is unnatural, he knows. Ordinarily, moblins and bokoblins wouldn't attack someone so obviously stronger unless it was out of desperation. But their wills have been completely subsumed by the Malice's.

The dead must rest.

He can give them that, at least, until the next Blood Moon.

He sits on a half-tumbled wall and cleans the blood from his blade, and thinks of the Hyrule he once knew. Of the darkness that had poured out over it like an oil spill after he deposed the Hylian King – and he hadn't ever given it a second thought. When his armies had swept across the land, they'd been armies of monsters, not Gerudo. Demise's grip had been unshakable from the beginning.

He calls his horse and quickly mounts; if he rides hard, he thinks he can make it past the Dueling Peaks by sundown. But he guides it onto the bridge, he notices something curious: a shrine, tucked away against the foot of the hill. He's seen those structures before, of course; both the Outskirt and Riverside Stables have shrines close by.

This one, however, looks different. The shrines Ganon's seen so far have all glowed a harsh orange – but this one shines a deep blue. Part of the front of it has receded, revealing a small hollow inside, barely large enough to fit a Hylian.

Unless Ganon's very much mistaken, that must mean it's been activated somehow.

Heart suddenly thudding with something that feels dangerously close to hope, he dismounts again and goes over to inspect it. Though he spends the rest of the afternoon investigating, however, it doesn't react to his presence – or to anything else, up to and including the electric current he spends entirely too much time and magical energy creating and trying to direct through the pedestal in front of the shrine. No matter what he does, the shrine remains stubbornly inert, and he gives up only once the sunlight's almost entirely gone. He spends the night camping in a small copse across the bridge, and gets too little sleep for an entirely different reason.


Ganon wakes the following morning with renewed purpose. He returns to the blue shrine almost before the sun is up, determined to try one more time to activate it for himself – but no matter what he tries, it remains stubbornly inert. At last, by midday, even he's forced to admit he's tried every idea he can think of (some twice), without any results. Whatever the purpose of these shrines – and the Sheikah symbol above the alcove gives him several ideas as to what that might be – they were clearly never intended for him.

That doesn't mean he's out of options, however. He studies his map once more: from Proxim Bridge, the only roads lead either to the Outskirt Stable, or the Riverside one – and yet both their shrines glowed orange. If it was truly the Hero who activated this shrine, it stands to reason he headed across Proxim Bridge along the path traversing the Dueling Peaks.

Which would mean Ganon is, at the very least, on his trail – if not catching up.

This will have to be played delicately: he can't risk the Hero finding out about his presence before he's ready. If ever. Without the Triforce of Power and with his magic atrophied, the boy will crush him like an insect. Perhaps it will be enough to confirm the Hero is alive, and then he can simply sit back and watch Hylia's chosen do his thing. The Hero and his holy blade alone should be enough to tip the scales against Demise and give Ganon the opportunity to reclaim his piece of the Triforce.

He can't think of a single time things have worked out so neatly for him, though.

His breastplate and ceremonial pauldrons have lain hidden in his saddlebags since he left the Gerudo Canyon, and he adds his gauntlets and greaves to them, leaving him in just his underamor and hooded cloak. If he draws that up, he looks like any other traveler – a tall one, but still. Finally ready, he turns his horse down the road that passes under the mountains.

The Dueling Peaks are, Ganon realizes as he enters their shadow, absolutely enormous. It takes him almost four hours to traverse them, but as he finally leaves their shade, he spots another Stable across the river – and more importantly, another shrine.

This one glows blue, too.

He dismounts his horse near the shallow pool the shrine lies in, intending to inspect it before going to pay for lodging and feed for his horse.

"Isn't it beautiful?" the Hylian woman at the edge of the water asks, before he can set a foot in it.

"... The shrine?" He supposes it does have an odd sort of appeal to it – he wouldn't go so far as to call it beautiful, though.

"Of course! All glowing like that – gorgeous, don't you think? Only, ever since that boy came, it's glowed blue. I think I liked the orange better."

Ganon freezes.

"Boy?" he echoes, heart racing.

"Mm-hmm! Came from the west, oh, two weeks ago? I wonder if he's studies 'em – the shrines, I mean. He didn't know the first thing about the stable, or elixirs, so I gave him one of my own, told him to watch himself out there. Miracle he made it this far, y'know? Oh – I'm Sagessa, by the way."

A boy who can activate the shrines.

"Dagah," he introduces himself quickly before diving to the point. "This boy, what did he look like?"

"Huh?" Sagessa touches one hand to her chin, the other on her elbow, thinking. "Oh – well, he had blond hair and blue eyes, and he was kind of short… he seemed nice. Why, do you know him?"

"That… sounds like someone I might know, yes." His voice sounds distant over the blood rushing through his veins. After weeks, here at last, another clue as to the Hero's whereabouts. It has to be him. He's passed through this place. "Do you know where he went from here?"

Sagessa shrugs and gestures over her shoulder. "Up north – towards the fork, don't know where from there though."

"I see. Thank you for the information; it's helpful," he says almost as an afterthought, turning away.

"No problem – hope you find your friend!"

He half-waves in response before realizing what he's doing, and frowns at himself. Two weeks and change he's been awake, and he's already started assuming Hylians are – friendly. He'd started conversing openly with Sagessa without a second thought, practically waved at her like an old friend. How quickly he's forgotten the suspicion of old, the accusing eyes that would follow any Gerudo who set foot in a Hylian town. The vile words, the hands that hid after throwing stones. How quick to abandon old wounds.

And yet, he hasn't caught a glance that could be described as anything more than wary since he arrived at the Outskirt Stable in full ceremonial armor. It is strange, this new and wild Hyrule.

After paying for a bed for the night and a meal and brushing down his horse, he settles on one of the stools by the cooking fire, and watches as the sunset starts to tinge the sky a delicate orange-pink. The evening is balmy enough that he sheds his cloak, relishing how the east wind tugs at his hair as he surveys the land. Hateno lies even further east than this, beyond the ruin-dotted marshland that stretches out from the stable, beyond the rugged cliffs.

A rider approaches the stable from the north, guiding his horse at an easy trot. Perhaps it's because of the hood he wears, or perhaps it's because his tunic is dark blue under the leather armor instead of the green he's used to seeing, but Ganon doesn't recognize the figure on horseback at first. Until he does, and it's like the ground has suddenly dropped out from under him.

It's Link.

All the air leaves Ganon's lungs in a rush. All this time searching for signs of the Hero, trying to stay hidden, only for the boy to find him, and now he's here – he's come to kill him, surely. The world narrows: the sound of the wind through the trees and the cuccoos squawking behind the stable; the last of the sun's rays as they slip behind the ridge; the grit of the road under his boots. Ganon doubts he has enough magical energy to call his armor to him without knocking himself out, so he simply tightens his grip on his sword's hilt imperceptibly, every nerve in his body alive with tension, waiting for the battle to start.

But it doesn't.

Instead of drawing his sword, all the Hero does is nod at him as he sits by the fire; then he starts pulling food out of his pack and preparing it. Something is wrong. It takes a moment, but this close, he can see it if he concentrates: the sacred light that usually announces the boy's presence like a clarion is… muted, hardly there. It's a pale shadow of what it should be. Small wonder Ganon didn't recognize him as he approached.

For a few minutes, the only sound between them is the snick of the boy's knife as it slices through ingredients. Bird thighs, swift carrots, Hyrule herbs, a few shavings of rock salt – all go into the pot; the Hero turns them over and adds water once the meat is browned, seemingly wholly engrossed in his work. It all feels incredibly wrong to Ganon. Why has the Hero not attacked him yet? He's certainly never hesitated in the past. Is it because of where they are? Does he fear the innocents at the stable might be caught up in the fighting? Or is he simply too weak? But the boy hasn't so much as acknowledged him, and that is the strangest thing of all. It—

The Hero is looking at him.

It's not a hostile look, oddly enough – but it does make his skin prickle to be held under such close scrutiny, so he turns to meet the boy's gaze directly, lifting an eyebrow as he does so.

"Yes?" His tone is a deliberate challenge.

The boy starts, then looks guilty, as though he didn't mean to be caught staring. "Sorry," he says shortly, and the sheer improbability of the Hero apologizing to him would have made Ganon laugh under any other circumstance. For a moment there's silence, then the boy speaks again. "You're… not Hylian?"

This conversation – if it can be called that – is getting stranger by the minute. "You speak as though you've never seen a Gerudo," he says, more derisively than he meant to, but the Hero just mouths the word in repetition, staring at a spot on the ground near his feet, brow furrowed. As though he really hasn't ever seen a Gerudo, which Ganon knows for damn sure isn't the case, more's the pity. He exhales through his nose, reminding himself to stay calm, and returns to sharpening his sword.

"... I don't remember."

The words come with enough of a delay that Ganon needs a moment before his brain links it to his last words.

"You don't – what?"

The boy looks profoundly uncomfortable under Ganon's wide-eyed stare, but meets it anyway. The Hero. Hylia's chosen. He forgot? Forgot everything, to the point of forgetting the Gerudo even existed? That would certainly explain why he hasn't tried to kill him, yet. It occurs to Ganon that such pronouncements usually merit an answer, but nothing seems even remotely adequate, so he says, "I see. I'm… sorry to hear it."

Link shrugs one shoulder in a dismissive sort of gesture as he adds rice to the pot. It is what it is, it seems to say. It's clear he doesn't really want to talk about it, but Ganon's mind is now afire with questions. He wonders if the boy's lack of memory has anything to do with the Princess, and the demon trapped in Hyrule Castle; he has to imagine it does. He wonders if the Hero even knows the destiny he's been born under for uncounted centuries.

Goddesses, if the Hero's off living his life as a goat-herder or something, then who is to challenge the Calamity? Ganon certainly can't, not while it has his piece of the Triforce.

"So," he says with forced casualness, "what brings a man without memory out this far east?"

The Hero looks at him, and Ganon feels suddenly like he's looking down through time, all the way to the beginning, where a boy from the forest stares back at him gravely – and then the moment is broken, and the memory washes away.

"I'm going to free the four Divine Beasts and take back Hyrule Castle," Link says, as though it's the simplest and most self-evident thing in the world. Ganon blinks. The four… oh, wait. He knows what those are; heard them mentioned on his travels. He also remembers them, more or less. That particular defeat had been – well, he doesn't enjoy thinking about it. He strives to hide a shudder, and hopes that the boy hasn't noticed.

"The four Divine Beasts," he says, stalling for time. "You mean those things people regard as deities?" The boy nods.

"They're machines. People built them long ago." Link stirs the pot, and a mouth-watering aroma of poultry broth wafts up out of it.

"I see. And you plan to do this all on your own, boy?" He braces his elbows on his knees.

The Hero shoots him a look that makes it clear he doesn't appreciate being called boy, but there's no real heat in it. Ganon would know, after all.

"If I have to," he nods.

For a moment there's silence, and Ganon turns the situation over in his mind. The Hero's lost his memories. No wonder he couldn't sense him coming from a mile away; no wonder the golden light that usually suffuses him is more like a guttering candle right now. And he means to take on the Calamity-controlled beasts, alone, in this state?

He'll be slaughtered.

… Which would normally be of no concern to Ganon, but right now that boy is his best hope of seeing Demise defeated, and reclaiming the Triforce of Power. He's poured weeks of his time into trying to find him. He needs him alive.

"Let me come with you."

The words leave his mouth before his brain can catch up with them, and he hears them like they're someone else's. The boy looks as surprised as Ganon feels; it's clear an offer of help was the last thing either of them expected – for different reasons, no doubt. But it is a good plan, he has to admit: what better way to ensure the Hero doesn't die – at least not until he's served his purpose? Right now, the boy is his only hope of getting back into Hyrule Castle. They want the same thing: to end the Calamity. So he presses on.

"We Gerudo are known for our battle prowess. If you plan to take on those Beasts, you'll need all the help you can get."

There's a beat of silence while Link turns a considering gaze on him. For a moment Ganon thinks he sees wariness flicker behind the boy's sky-blue eyes, but then—

"All right." Link nods.

It's Ganon's turn to be surprised; he wasn't expecting the boy to go along with it. Certainly not that easily. It makes the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. He ignores the feeling and instead offers his hand; Link takes it after a moment. His grip is surprisingly strong for how slender his hand feels in Ganon's.

"I am Dagah, of the Gerudo."

"Link."

Ganon moves his hand back to his knees and leans forward, smiling with a friendliness he does not feel.

"Well then, Link," he says. "Where do we start?"

.


so this fic's officially passed the twin 100 kudos/1000 hits milestones on AO3 which, hell yeah. I'm currently still uploading here for like, legacy reasons (aka I've had this account since 2006 and it pains me to let it go) but honestly I might just transition to uploading only on AO3 cause I hate FFN's interface and also reader engagement is way higher over there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(also, to the fandom baby who left a review that was literally just whining about how my tastes in shipping don't match theirs, as if that's something I should care about: lmAO. oh, honey.)