Here's that long-ass chapter, I couldn't see where to split it up.

Epona plodded along at an easy pace, the hooves leaving imprints in the red earth of Gerudo Valley. The female guard recognized me and waved me past the checkpoint and into the fortress. The off-white adobe structure looked like some children's toy block set, only riddled here and there with open entrances and cubby-hole windows. It didn't look like much of a fortress but the Gerudo didn't need protection of walls, it had been hell to fight them in the old days just as they were--or, the days which never existed, whatever.

A few of the guards whispered to one another behind their hands as I passed, snickering. I felt the back of my ears turn red, shaking it off and resisting the urge to jump from the saddle and break their necks. It was always this way it seemed, whenever I was out in the open when people were observing me, or ignored me completely, never seemed to fail.

Not my fault I'm like this, I thought to myself bitterly, fuming, I had always had a pretty bad temper, even though I could suppress my anger for a good deal of time, but it didn't keep me from screaming inside. To hell with all of them.

"Cripple," I heard someone whisper, it was cruel and hollow sounding, followed by whooping laughter.

Snap.

I wheeled Epona around in furry to find half a dozen guards all examining me haughtily, their eyes; the only feature visible from the veils, seemed to glow mirthlessly. There was nothing I could do against a group so large--especially when left with nothing but a bow, I wouldn't be able to draw back the string before one of them cut my throat. It was an insult, but it wasn't worth getting killed for.

But it hurt…

In an increasingly foul mood, I rode up the path to the archery course. At the far end was a stable with construction very similar to the fortress with one level and half-doors covering the wide entrances, there must have been fifty in total.

A small pen had been constructed from odd lengths of wood. But the pen didn't interest me, it was its occupant. A black stallion; perhaps about fifteen hands high trotted in a tight circle, the mane and erect tail billowing like windswept flames. The long neck ended in a small and savagely beautiful head. He was no warhorse, that was for sure. The stallion lacked the stature and build for taking a man fully clad in armor into battle. But he had all the trademark features of a racer, the springy action in the knees, the deep chest. I rode closer. The wide nostrils flared and he reared, striking and unusual cobalt-blue eyes flashing.

"I'd stay away from him if I were you, he's broken two arms already." A tall and slender Gerudo was leaning against the adobe. She looked at me with a curious smirk as I dismounted. "What brings you this far out, rancher?"

"I came to get the new brood mare." I said quietly, beating the red dust off my brown shirt.

Her brows furrowed. "Brood mare?"

"Yes. The gray mare with the white socks? The money was sent to you last week in advance."

She shook her head.

"We sent it to you with Ingo!" I said, raising my voice slightly, starting to get angry. I didn't have the patience or the time to haggle with the gerudo, they would always try to worm there way out of the offer, but I wasn't about to be had today.

"Ingo?" She questioned, rubbing her neck. "Yeah, he was here, I saw him in the bar at the Gorge with a big money pouch, looks like he spent near all of it, half on liquor and half on women--none of ours, of course." She added, obviously trying to rid the idea that their race consisted of desert whores. Fat chance.

"Damn it," I cursed under my breath, lowering my eyes, it was exactly the sort of thing the lonely boozehound would do. I looked back to her pleadingly. "Do you think I could take the horse now and pay you back later?"

"Sorry, we just don't operate that way," She said softly. She was one of the most kind-hearted gerudo I had ever met but there was a tone in her voice that said the matter was not up for negotiation. I sighed, looking elsewhere.

Something caught my eye, a crowd in the distance on the other side of the archery course, coming towards us.

"What's going on?" I asked her, without letting my gaze leave the group of twenty or so women, and one lone figure between them clad head to toe in black that was being jerked forward among them. She waved her hand unconcernedly, like brushing a fly from her face.

"Oh, they're just executing a prisoner--"

"I thought the treaties banned the gerudo from taking prisoners, much less executing them," I interrupted. Blackmail might work.

"That only applies to residents of Hyrule."

Damn. No such luck. But it was an interesting matter. "…He's not from around here?" I asked, blinking in surprise, it was very rare that anyone--and I mean anyone got though the desert alive.

"No. And for the record, it's a woman."

I blinked again, rarer still. "Did she come in with anyone?" I asked, assuming she got separated from a passing caravan. It was unheard of for anyone to brave the desert alone. There was safety and survival in numbers. Lone travelers in the desert died in numerous ways; starvation, thirst, exhaustion, leevers, quicksand, sometimes the bodies weren't discovered until years later and by then it was nearly impossible to tell who they had been and where they were from.

"No," She said, gesturing to the horse, which had quieted, gazing intently on the crowd intently and drawing breath quickly though wide trembling nostrils. "That's her only partner, that I know of. She came here about a week ago, barely got inside the gates before falling off and passing out. Horse raised a big fuss, wouldn't let us anywhere near her 'til we roped it and brought it here, breaking a few arms in the processes. She cooperated 'til this morning when one of the guards told her what the punishment for trespassing is…" She shrugged. "But it'll all be over shortly anyway."

I frowned, it didn't seem like the most just thing to do. After all, she was probably weak with hunger, harmless, battered and scared. And considering all she did was trod on desert grounds…that was probably an accident anyway.

Suddenly, there was commotion in the crowd, yells and screams of anger, surprise and confusion. The prisoner had broken loose! She was making a mad dash my way towards the horse. From out of nowhere, guards came pouring out of the stables; jumping from the roofs and from inside the horse stalls. Even the gerudo I was speaking with lanced her scythe forward, blade pointing to the prisoner's chest.

She halted, about fifteen feet from the guard and the semi-circle that had advanced forward, their various blades ready to rip her apart if she continued, the gerudo behind her quickly closed the gap.

She was tall for a woman, nearly as tall as myself (though I was never all that long-boned to begin with), and a few years younger. Slender, almost dreadfully thin as well, which could probably be attributed to wandering the desert without proper nourishment. Her skin was recovering from a sunburn, with the beginnings of hollows from starvation under the eyes and cheekbones. A slight breeze tugged at her long black cloak and roughly sheared raven black hair that fell slightly past her shoulders. The baggy shirt beneath the cloak left everything to the imagination but her leggings revealed her sculpted and lean legs--black as well. Her black outfit was a striking contrast to the red-orange of the surrounding earthen walls.

She wasn't like Zelda or Malon, the ranch girl, but she was not in any sense less pretty. She lacked their fair and delicate ways to take on a more dark, mysterious and exotic feel, with a less angular face and full lips that could tempt a saint. The most striking thing about her where her eyes, which seemed to have the same hue of her horse's blue. They were haunting and unnerving, hard to meet the gaze of and even harder to look away. They bore the stern glare of hard times and tragedy. Those rich, compelling, yet strangely unreadable eyes, which seemed to hide a thousand secrets, all of them tainted, behind a wall of cold blue steel. A savage fire burned within their depths, practically radiating anger, hatred and injustice.

In her lithe and calloused hand a dagger was arched, long and wickedly sharp.

For an instant, those cold blue eyes met mine. Somewhere I saw my former self in them--recklessly brave and far too stubborn for my own good. I looked to her sympathetically. Drop it…I pleaded silently, I can get you out of this, just don't kill anyone…

Those eyes narrowed slightly, and then almost if my thoughts had an audible voice, the blade slipped through her fingers to glitter dully in the dust as she kicked it towards me. At once she was shoved roughly from behind, she landed on her knees, hair falling to shield her face like a curtain--or a burial shroud. Her arms were grasped then tied behind her back at the wrists, as were her ankles, it was apparent that they were taking no second chances. Her shoulders jerked as she tested her bonds, but she didn't utter a sound. The horse reared and plunged against the padlock, making the most awful whistling scream that I had ever heard. But even under the force of those sharp hard hooves the enclosure held.

The sunlight glared harshly off a scimitar, arched high over the executioner's head. She grinned nastily, eyes gleaming brightly, hungry for blood. But that all changed very quickly. The guard yelped suddenly, her blade joining the knife on the ground as she clutched her wrist in pain, staggering backwards towards her sisters. Puzzled, she withdrew a feathered dart, the needle so fine that it didn't even draw blood from her wrist.

"Next time there might be poison in it. With your behavior, I'd watch my steps!" A voice called from above. A gerudo stood high atop a rock outcropping. At first one might guess that she had an obsession with jewels, for her fingers were covered with rings, arms weighed down with bracelets and neck adorned with heavy golden chains. Even the band that tied back her hair was crowned with a ruby the size of a fist. But if you looked past all of that you would find that she had the strength needed to support all of it. Under one arm she had something long shrouded with cloth. In the other hand she carried a flute that I had seen skullkids in the lost woods that doubled as a dart tube.

With the grace of a tigress, she leapt down and landed lightly on her feet. Only the startled guard, myself and the prisoner remained motionless, the rest of the gerudo bowed lowly and shuffled out of the way as she slowly parted the circle of guards.

"Nannaki?" The woman asked, certain sharpness to her voice. The executioner bowed clumsily.

"Nabooru," She murmured, "You honor us with your--"

"I don't feel like being praised like a goddess today. Nor," She looked to the prisoner, who had not moved an inch. "Did I give you the power to deliver capital punishment. You insult me."

The guard looked up, hurt. It was every gerudo's dream to win the Queen's favor, and clearly things were not going well. "Please, I had no idea, I assumed it was your wish for the prisoner to be--"

"Ah, you assume! When you do so it makes an ass out of 'u' and me." She paused briefly, delighting in her wit. "Therefore, the prisoner shall be given the chance to prove herself in battle."

The prisoner's head jerked up for the first time, the hair fell back from her face to reveal eyes glinting with curious suspicion.

"Fine with me," The dark one mumbled, glaring daggers at the guard.

Nannaki looked almost insulted at the prospect. "…With the prisoner?" She questioned slowly. Nabooru nodded, as one would to a small child.

She then knelt down, removing the cloth from a beautiful silver broadsword with some sort of stone where the blade met the hilt. There was a symbol on it that I had only seen once before in an ancient textbook Raru had in his private bookshelf. It meant something in old hyrulian script, he had told me long ago, but I had since forgotten. Its hand guard reminded me of an almost skeletal version of the Master Sword, like the stylized wings had been reduced to bony fingers. I hoped I could examine it later.

She cut the woman's bindings and offered her a hand up. She got up on her own, but murmured low and quiet thanks as Nabooru gave her the sword. It balanced nicely in very good control. At that point it wouldn't have surprised me if she had been born with it in her hand. Nannaki fled to the other side of the makeshift arena and the Gerudo Queen left quickly to join her people. The circle broadened a little, giving the two a wide berth.

As she had before, the former prisoner surprised me with her stillness. She stood in wait, her shoulder offered to her opponent, the sword hanging limply at her side, the tip embedded in the soft earth. Nannaki had her sword arched high over head, other arm far out in front of her with the fingers spread, poised like a dancer and shifting her weight from toe to toe. The dark woman smirked, not at all intimidated or impressed it seemed. The gerudo gritted her teeth, taking the lack of interest as a very personal insult.

She shrieked, jumping forward, ready to cut off the woman's arm. With great speed she brought the sword up and deflected the blow, I had hardly even seen her move. She resumed her position as the gerudo stumbled back in surprise, just standing there, eyes mischievous. Nannaki was more hesitant this time but she attacked soon enough. The blade of the silver sword flashed again to block the blow, the gerudo throwing her weight behind it. The woman held on, forcing the gerudo back even. She growled and kicked out with her foot, making the gerudo jump back and barely have time to recover and block a viscous attack. Her blade flashed mercilessly, it seemed to be everywhere at once, so fast some times that I had a hard time seeing it.

"Did you forget where I lived?" Someone whispered beside me. I looked over to see Nabooru at my right, watching the battle intensely.

"Well…I…Umm…" I stammered, unsure of what to say. She chuckled slightly.

"It's alright, Link, I know we're not exactly in the same gung-ho save the world routine anymore." She said, completely dropping her regal stature. She glanced at me sidelong. "Do you miss it?"

Miss it? Miss the nightmares? Miss risking my life every hour of the day to save those too ignorant to save themselves? Miss waking up, every morning, still exhausted, and wondering if that day would be my last? Miss bandaging my wounds while I bit down on my gauntlet to avoid screaming and alerting those nearby? Miss the slick, sticky feeling of blood cloying my hands? Knowing that in some cases it wasn't my own? Miss the guilt? Miss seeing everyone I knew die, mentally and physically? Miss…Ganondorf? Yes, Nabooru, everything was just peachy back then I wanted to say to her.

But, I immediately felt guilty for even letting my own personal accounts get the best of me. What I went though was nothing compared to Nabooru. She had been a slave for seven years, not even in control of her own thoughts and emotions as she slaughtered who ever was in the way of her captors. She had seen her sisters die too, either in battle, by Ganondorf's fits of rage and sometimes even by her own blade. Ganondorf. Goddesses only knew what that bastard had put her though. She had lost a husband and gained a monster when he had quietly gone off to desert decades ago to investigate something within the sands. He wondered how much of the queen's heart that bastard still kept.

I shrugged. "…I do get assignments from time to time, but they're not exactly the most exciting things…more like little chores, extermination jobs…"

She nodded in understanding then looked back out to the two combating warriors. "You used to fight like that…" she commented. I frowned slightly.

"I was…no, I am better, I could have killed your lackey by now…"

"Could have, Link, could have…you're not the man you used to be…"

"I can still fight with the best of 'em." I said stubbornly, but knew she was probably right. It had been a long time since I had been anywhere near tip-top fighting shape.

Sighing, I looked back to the match. The woman was good, very good; she clearly had the better skills, more agile and knew all the little dirty tricks. Every blow the Gerudo made, she blocked. When Nannanki was completely on the offensive, trying desperately to get past the outsider's defense, she swiped back at her, knocking past her whirling blade, and slapping her hard with the flat of her own steel across the stomach, knocking her to the ground.

The fight paused momentarily. Nannaki grinned devilishly and jerked her arm, allowing a spring-loaded blade nearly nine inches long to appear in her hand from under her sleeve. The crowd gasped but did nothing to stop her as she lunged at her opponent, the tearing of fabric could be heard.

The black-clad woman grimaced slightly; there was a rip in the forearm of her shirt, dust on the material around it engulfed in blood. But she didn't seem to care. The Gerudo had left herself open, and realized it far too late. She brought up the flat of her blade again, and knocked the other female across the head with it, hard enough to cause her eyes to roll back in her head. The dark one did not skip a beat, sword lancing out to knock her to the ground, ending with the tip of her blade nearly touching her throat, ready to embed it into the exposed and vulnerable flesh.

Cliffhanger! Haha! *grins maniacly* Anywho, take a gander at http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=745560 (cut n' paste, since html code doesn't work for links). Rai Doriane's Song of the Sorceress. Pretty damn good, 'specialy since it's not one of those damn game show fictions and someone actually put effort into it ("hi, i wrote this cuz I was borde. its not really good--and I can't take my sweet time to spell worth a shit--but plz r/r")