Being sick sure does suck, ya know? But it gives me free time. Here's the revised version of chapter 2, not that anybody cares -.-;
Zelda doesn't make me any money. (Though with the Game Cube Zelda motif she won't be making Nintendo any money either.)
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Chapter 1: The Rally
The Gerudo had secured a massive territory consisting of the western half of Hyrule Field. Once prized land for grazing animals, soon only Talon's cows and horses remained, as the unprotected ranches of his rivals burned and their beasts were sent into the desert to grace the table of the desert titan. Scorch marks licked up one side of Lon Lon Ranch, a warning that soon not even the fortified ranch would endure the campaign of the amazons.
They fought for food, and access to fresher water than the run-off that exited the castle town. A purloined shipment of superior Hylian supplies wouldn't be shunned either. And of course, strong men were also herded back to the fortress. They were detested most of the time, but even a Gerudo could put aside her malice for just one night...
Nabooru maneuvered out of her king's embrace. He could have her killed for resisting him, but he was accustomed to getting his way. She thanked Din a little 'effort' was refreshing to the Gerudo king. The stomach of the lone wolf thief lurched at the thought of his hands on her, but her young eyes beheld un-flickering embers, bold and bright. Unafraid.
He chuckled as he watched her, his matching eyes backed with sinister ambition rather than noble intentions. "Another night, perhaps," he murmured. "You had something to tell me, my Exalted Nabooru?" The Gerudo loved her almost as much as they loved him. He would have to keep her rising popularity in check. For now, he was content to undress her with his eyes since she declined the privilege her sisters saw in his touch. Defiant little bitch...
She acted with more confidence than she should have. He couldn't harm her so long as the approval of her sisters was with her. All raids led by Nabooru yielded wealth in food, riches, but never men. She remembered a time when Gerudo girls dreamed of courtship and love and the enveloping arms of a chosen man that was so different from the sisterly embraces of her own kindred. Now they weren't unlike cattle, told to pick the healthiest, mate, and kill him as he rested in their arms. She wouldn't help Ganondorf bring about the Gerudos' ruination. Gerudo had become synonymous with 'parasite' to the Hylians and the Sheikah. Nabooru agreed. Mandrag Ganondorf Dragmire was breeding them to become an army - for his own greed. Those who protested this new approach to 'love' were made into convincing examples, skewered on a pike and left to rot in the desert just outside the fortress. He was murdering their proud spirits, and Nabooru couldn't allow it to continue.
It was a game between them. She made a show of respecting him whilst ignoring his roving eyes. "Indeed, Divine and Mighty Sire," she began, bowing with a flourish that sent her scarlet ponytail swooshing over her bronze shoulder, "units are in place all over our new front, ready to follow your next orders, my king. The Hylians treat my captive sisters fairly despite their hatred. I propose we do the same, to prove we have already beaten them. Even with their officers back we will still crush them, " she reasoned.
"That's not why you want to treat them with mercy and you know it... but I'll humor you and grant what you asked. Their returned numbers wouldn't do them much good, anyway," Ganondorf chortled, amused with Nabooru's passionate dislike for him.
Nabooru excessively thanked him, and backed out of the throne room bowing, every dip absurd. Even Ganondorf could not fail to notice her mockery of respect. Part of the game -- their usual dangerous game. Her slippered feet took her down a labyrinth of sandstone hallways, past mess halls and storage rooms until she came to the small dungeon on the fortress' westerly side. She had to peer down into it to notice the Hylian officer sitting in the moonlight provided by the tiny window.
To his dismay, it was hopelessly out of reach. He had to crane his neck to catch a glimpse of Nabooru. She didn't quite seem like the others. She looked at him in the same unnerving way the rest of the Gerudo did, but it... Wetting his parched lips, he tried to speak. "You again," he muttered, his throat begging for the moisture of water. "Bring me anything to drink?"
"I spoke with Mandrag Ganondorf on your behalf, filthy male. Surely my mercy is worth a little more than a mouthful of water," she sneered. Sure she was noble -- but she wasn't a saint. "You and your men will be treated better until you are released later in the week. It depends on how well you behave, and how your army moves. Got it?" Her hands curled under on the curve of her hips as she peered down at him.
"Aye," he said. Soon he shifted into a more comfortable position, no longer trying to stretch his neck to see the Gerudo.
Her voice became a deathly soft whisper, for her words guaranteed danger if heard by the wrong person. "The Gerudo were not always like this. When you are free, I want you to remind your comrades of the days before Ganondorf was old enough to act on his ambition. We need to be saved from our own king, if you want to see it in a clearer light. Whether we win or lose, as long as we obey him... We die." The emotion within her usually harsh voice made the man swallow his harsh remark. What she had said made more sense than any of the recent events. She stood up, dusting off her pink and poofy pants. As she made her way to leave him to his thoughts, she relented, her voice softening, "When the guard changes you will have all the water you can drink."
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Darunia lived within a stone stronghold of a different design. Intricate like the Gerudo Fortress, Goron City was carved into the southern recesses of Death Mountain. It was an inverted beehive of circular passageways and chambers, all emanating from a central core. There, the Spiritual Stone of Fire, the pride of the Gorons glowed like a hot coal on a suspended platform and illuminated the open parts of the city. From one of the tunnels came a cheery tune, loved by all the Gorons, but most of all Darunia.
"Bouncing boulders! I love this beat!" he exclaimed, dancing merrily despite his girth. With his muscles clothed in leathery hide and a mane of frazzled snow, Darunia looked a fearsome mess, yet ebony eyes glittered with mirth as his limbs swung and flopped to the happy melody. He didn't know where it came from, but as long as it didn't stop, Darunia didn't care to investigate further.
Gorons stood on the second level, looking down at their leader as he got down with his bad self. At last, he came to a stop, bowing to the loud applause he was given. He retreated back into his chamber as his brothers curled up and rolled away to their own duties.
Massive hands scooped up gravel speckled with flecks of tasty minerals and shoveled it into his cavern of a mouth. As his teeth ground up the rocks, he began to brood. I wish there was more time for celebration. With the threat of war looming over us, we will have to fight. Damn Zoras... Thinking they're all high and mighty over anything else in Hyrule! We used to be close allies, but I refuse to be bossed around by a walking fish! The angrier he got, the more his teeth pummeled the gritty meal, the sound echoing around the torchlit room.
An idea struck him like a ton of bricks. He gulped audibly. What if the Gorons allied with the Hylians?! Surely such an alliance would enable them to defeat their enemies with ease! Gorons could wreak havoc on the Gerudo's defenses and the Hylians weren't as susceptible to water as Darunia and his kindred were. A smug grin was plastered on his face as he rolled out of his chamber and began gathering some of his brothers to tell them the news. "I have a plan! We will make Anuin a Sworn Brother to us Gorons!" he roared, slapping his comrades on the back hard enough to send them flying. One unfortunate Goron shook his head to clear it after the 'pat on the back' and trudged back up to Darunia, followed by countless others. "A plan! For Victory! A plan! A PLAN!!!" they all chanted, dancing to the mysterious song with hope in their hearts.
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The army was positioned in front of the castle town's gates, littered with campfires and tents. Lookouts were everywhere, awaiting Gerudo attack. Anuin read reconnaissance reports by waning candlelight, accompanied by a chorus of crickets that chirped long into the night outside his tent. It had been four weeks since he lost Fleur, and between his grief and the countless battles with the Gerudo, he felt stretched between one extreme and the other. There were bags under his once fierce azure eyes from lack of sleep, and his beard needed a good trim. He thought he could hear Fleur calling him to bed sometimes, sending the hairs on the back of his neck to attention. Acceptance of the fact that his soul was alone changed him dramatically. He would bring peace to Hyrule, as Fleur asked of him. That was his driving force; what made him move when his muscles screamed objections after hours of toil. Not once did he think of the tiny princess behind Fleur's request.
One more message, thank the gods... he thought, rubbing his tired eyes. He tore off the Goron seal... Goron seal?! Anuin blinked. Goron indeed... He read the letter thoroughly, his weariness forgotten for the time being.
King Anuin of the Hylian forces,
I, Darunia of the Goron clan, have a proposition for you. I believe that if we combine our legions that our foes will crumble like so much dust under our strength. The Zora have the upper hand over Gorons seeing as how we cannot go near water, but Hylians can make a better dent in their numbers than us. At the same time, Gorons have thick hides and armored backs, untouched by the fire and arrows used by the front lines of the Gerudo.
Let us become Sworn Brothers and form a mighty alliance!
May the mountains of Din forever rise,
Darunia
Anuin actually smiled. By the last moments of the guttering candle's flame, he wrote his reply and sealed it in a similar manner to the message he received. It read:
Darunia of the Goron Clan,
I welcome this alliance with open arms. It is not weakness to yearn for peace. We will triumph over our enemies and bring peace back to Hyrule. I will meet with you as soon as I can, but I feel letters are more covert and will serve us well for now.
May the fields of Farore continue to yield,
Your Brother
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She is a child of light... Impa inwardly mused as she walked to the bassinet that the tiny princess slept in. Its ornate velvet coverings and tassles covered the outside, and inside soft, creamy hued blankets protected Zelda from the cool nights of early Spring. The whole room had candles scattered in various places, giving the room a muted glow to ward off the darkness that lurked waiting in the corners. The chamber was large. It was lonely. Impa slept on a cot near the door on some nights, or just nearby on others. She vowed to protect her from the dark, monsters real and imagined, and to guide her as she traveled down the current of fate.
Zelda wriggled into a more comfortable pose within her nest of blankets and afghans, sleeping peacefully by the light of the candles. The faint scent of honey drifted as the beeswax melted, and the sound of Impa's breathing nearby assured the infant she wasn't alone. She wasn't quick to go from the arms of Impa to the woman that nursed her, but her appetite persuaded her to reconsider in the end. Zelda became close to them both, but she preferred the embrace of Impa. The strength that lingered under her gentleness felt secure. Impa would never leave her, those sturdy arms said.
Shadows flickered across Impa's face as she tried to get some sleep. Slumber was stubborn this night, and simply refused to fill her order. Thoughts permeated into her consciousness. The need to join her kind in the war against the Gerudo. Impa's garnet eyes glinted with hatred of the desert women and their king. Whores. Thieves. Braggarts. The longing for their blood on her sword made her blink and shake her head. Zelda needed her more than she needed the battlefield. She twisted to look at the bassinet, excessive trappings and all, the occupant within sound asleep. Thank Nayru...
The Sheikah were an inherently more magical race than the Hylians; they were also more violent. Their temple of shadows was devoted to darkness and the unknown. It had several rooms with devices that could make one scream and spill information...or anything else the Sheikah deemed worthy of spilling. It was a palace of nightmares to some, but to a Sheikah it was a holy sanction. No ordinary Hylian could enter the depths of the temple, and only adult Sheikah crossed the pit into its depths. How? Strangely, Sheikah exhibited similarities to ghosts and other spirits that seemed inclined to the night and shadows. Their bodies could meld with the shadows, and through them, traverse Hyrule within seconds to another desired location, so long as there were shadows from which they could 'emerge'.
Just as the Sheikah who entered the chambers of the princess. He waited in that dark corner, silent, his ruby eyes on Impa. She knew he was there, her breathing changed, her eyes focused on something close to him. She saw him in her peripheral vision. "You are being summoned..." he murmured.
"Shhh," Impa warned, not wanting him to awaken Zelda.
He arched a brow at her, for caring for a child as if it were her own. To care enough to give up Sheikah tendencies and play Nanny... He nodded and waited for her.
Impa glowered at the floor, silently rising to stand. A glance to Zelda asleep in her bed, before she left the room by means of the shadows. Returning less than a minute later, she waited for the nursemaid to quietly open the door. Zelda would need her if she woke up with Impa not in sight.
Now, it was just a matter of sinking into the darkness and appearing at the Shadow Temple's entrance, the place for summonings. Moving to a dark corner, Impa welcomed the shadows that enveloped her, wrapping her in their substance like so many sheets of ebon muslin. She became a dead leaf in the breeze, blown high into the air to spiral and flip and float to her random destination, only it wasn't very random. Impa had missed the shadows and their touch, not knowing how much until she had to step free of them and enter the circle of Sheikah.
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A good fifty of her brethren stood on the outermost rim of the runic circle that decorated the floor of the cavern, the mouth of the Shadow Temple. Torches warmed their backs whilst casting monstrous, disfigured shadows to serve as copies for the people of the night. Indigo, black, navy...the colors worn with pride and on every chest was some semblance of the mysterious Eye of Truth. Impa's gaze surveyed the group, until she spotted the robes of red and white. Aupis, her mother. Aupis, the Elder.
Their eyes met, though Impa caught the glance to the floor. Not in defeat, but to direct her own garnet sight there; a command to 'Look.' In the midst of them all, stood a child. A little girl possibly no older than two. Her eyes were a resplendent silver, reflecting the flames back to Impa's eyes like a polished mirror. Uncut strands grazed her shoulders, matching her unnatural oculars. Even for a Sheikah, she was exotic, and for a toddler she was fiendishly silent; meeting the glances of anyone with an almost outright look of defiance.
It became clear now. Among other things, this meeting had been called to decide the child's fate.
* R/R please!