Chapter 2: The Tyrant
Malon had known her life would be hard once her father was gone, but she had never expected it to be this hard. Ingo, for all his talk of being so much more hard-working then Talon, barely did anything at all anymore. She did all the work around the ranch, milking the cows, grooming and training the horses, tending the small garden patch, collecting the Cuccos' eggs, and cooking and cleaning up after every meal. When Ingo wasn't out 'delivering wares', he was strutting about the grounds, sometimes stopping to sit down near where Malon was working and taunt her. When he did this, she kept a smooth face and a straight back. She would not let him have an affect on her.
One night, when Ingo was out 'delivering wares', Malon took a ride on Epona out in Hyrule Field. The colt had grown into a big, strong and fast rusty mare. Her trainer delighted in her exceptional speed and agility. Malon loved racing across the fields, wind blowing back her long red hair. The excitement, the rush, the feel of the horse moving under her, it was exhilarating, and it was the only thing that gave her any pleasure these days. While she was riding, she lost all track of time.
Riding Epona back through Lon Lon Ranch's gates, Malon noticed light shining through the kitchen window and cursed. Ingo would not be pleased she had been out. She dismounted, led the horse into the stable, unsaddled the mare as quietly as possible, and left her in a stall with a nosebag full of oats.
She opened the door a crack and peered inside, hoping Ingo would be sleeping. But no, he was there, sitting at the kitchen table with the sourest look she had ever seen on his face. When he saw her, he jumped to his feet. "Where have you been, you little chit? I told you never to leave the ranch without my permission!"
Malon was frightened, but she kept her back straight and her face blank and dignified. "Epona hasn't been out on the open field in a long time, Mr. Ingo. I thought that a good long run would loosen her joi-"
"Silence!" Ingo snapped. "I don't care if the ranch is on fire when I'm out, you will not leave the property unless I tell you to!"
"You're being entirely unreasonable," said Malon, with an air as though they were discussing this over tea. She began taking out ingredients to bake the next morning's scones. "I stayed here at the ranch of my own free will. I could have left with my father and let you to deal with all the chores around here alone. I can leave when I want to. You have no power over me."
She was not aware of Ingo being beside her until it was too late, and his hand was swinging at her out of nowhere. He struck her face with great force, and she was knocked against the wall with a scream of pain. He stood there with his hand still raised, as though he wanted to hit her again, chest heaving and face purple with rage. "I have complete power over you, scrawny little monster!" he roared. Malon stared up at him, wide-eyed with fear. "You talk like that to me again, and I'll make you wish your mother had drowned you when she'd first clapped eyes on your disgusting, ungrateful face!"
When he'd gone up into the bedroom, Malon slid to the floor, hugged her knees close, and buried her face in her arms, sobbing. She'd been so scared, and he'd hit her so hard.
That was the first time Ingo had hurt her, but it most definitely would not be the last. The next six months were a nightmare.
Ingo seemed to have realized that hitting Malon made her more submissive, because as the weeks wore on, he hit her harder, more often, and for less important reasons. One time, he'd come home late and had slapped her face before going to bed, for absolutely no reason at all.
And Malon's fear of him before he had started to hit her was nothing compared to how much he scared her now. Then, she could summon the courage to scowl at him, look him in the eye, or sometimes talk to him. Since he had started hitting her, she would stiffen and lower her head whenever he walked by. She did anything he told her to without question. Anything to avoid another bruise, another black eye, another lash. Every morning, she'd wake up, feeling as though she hadn't gotten any sleep at all, and every night, she'd go to bed trying to get comfortable in her lumpy mattress up in the hayloft and aching all over.
One night, after Ingo had beaten her repeatedly with a broom handle, she decided to run away to Kakariko Village and live with her father, but he caught her saddling Epona in the early hours before dawn, and gave her such a thrashing, she would never even have thought of leaving again, even without the lock on her door that Ingo installed the very next day.
But one day, Ingo took his abuse to a whole new level.
It was a cold, chill afternoon. The wind blew exceptionally hard against the window shutters, making them rattle. Malon hadn't taken the cows out to graze; instead she left them in the barn with a bale of hay. She kept the chickens and horses in as well. The animals would not enjoy being whipped about by that harsh wind.
Ingo was sitting at the kitchen table, grumbling and groaning about how hungry he was and how lazy teenage girls were and Malon was standing by the stove, quiet as a church mouse, stirring a pot of stew, when they both heard the sound of hooves on the dirt path. Ingo leaped to his feet and raced to the bedroom, shouting something about fixing himself up. The girl stayed where she was. There was no point in trying to make herself look presentable: she knew she looked awful no matter what, with the enormous circles under her eyes and the large purple bruise on her cheek she had spotted in her reflection in the horses' water pail. Besides, Ingo completely ignored her when they received visits, seldom as they were, probably not wanting to draw attention to the awful state she was in. And maybe the visitors wanted some stew...
Outside, she heard the hooves stop, voices, and then a knock at the door. She glanced at Ingo's bedroom door worriedly. Would he come down and answer the door, or-
"Let the guests in, girl, don't keep them waiting!" Ingo's voice hollered from upstairs. So Malon put down her ladle, shuffled over to the door and opened it.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Ganondorf stood there, flanked by two soldiers and looking down at her with a smile that did not reach his hawk-like eyes. She just stood there like a dumb mute, paralysed with fear. She was bumped out of the way by Ingo, who had emerged from his room wearing his good suit. "My Lord! What a pleasant surprise!" Ingo exclaimed with an oily tone he used with guests. "You honour us with your presence! Please, won't you come inside!" To Malon, he hissed, "Go and see to his Majesty's horses, girl." She was only too willing to obey.
When her task was done, she retreated into her tiny room in the loft, pleased to have a moment to herself. Whatever Ganondorf wanted, it was none of her concern. She sat down on her bed, careful not to fall asleep, and waited for the king and his men to come into the stable so that she could saddle their horses again. It didn't take as long as she had expected. The three men waited silently, but she dared not look at them; she did not want to offend. When they were gone, she walked into the kitchen.
She caught a glimpse of Ingo's purple face, angrier then she'd ever seen it, before he had seized her and threw her bodily across the room. She screamed and almost lost her balance, but managed to steady herself against the wall.
"His Majesty says this ranch has scarcely improved at all since the last time he's seen it," Ingo said quietly, dangerously. "Do you know what that means, little bitch?" Malon shook her head, a whimper escaping her lips. Ingo looked so angry, he looked ready to kill her. "It means it hasn't changed at all. It means this place hasn't improved. It means you've been slacking on your duties, shirking your chores!" His last words had come out as a shout. He began to circle the table to get closer to her, and she circled with him to stay as far away as she could, eyes wide, heart hammering.
"N-no, I've been trying hard, I swear!" she stuttered. "Please, y-you have to believe me! I-I can't work any harder th-then I am!"
"Liar! You did this on purpose! You wanted me to look bad in front of the king so that your 'daddy' would get his precious ranch back!"
"No! I swear!"
Suddenly, Ingo lunged at her, but she dodged him and threw herself at the door. She clawed at the doorknob, but couldn't get it open. Her mind had gone all fuzzy. Hurry! her head screamed, but her hands would not obey. Just as she managed to turn the knob, Ingo seized her by the middle and flung her away from the door, knocking her into the table and stunning her momentarily. When her head cleared again, she saw Ingo standing over her with a horsewhip in his hand and a mad, red glint in his eyes. She screamed and tried to back away, but she was already flattened against the toppled table. With a whoosh and a snap, the whip came down.
It was the most horrifying experience of her life. He beat her for longer then he ever had before. He kicked her, punched her, slapped her, and whipped her. There was no pattern, he was just intent on hurting her as much as he could. Malon screamed and screamed, until her voice grew hoarse, begging him to stop, but he never did, he just struck her over and over as she huddled defenceless against the table and screamed for mercy. Pain shot through every inch of her body, skin stinging, flesh burning, muscle throbbing. Finally, after what seemed like years of punishment, he tossed the whip onto the floor and went to bed.
How she made it back to her bed that night, Malon had no idea. She vaguely remembered stumbling from the house to the stable, covered in blood and sweat, her clothing in shreds, and collapsing several times. When she awoke the next morning after a sleep full of nightmares, it was well after sunrise, and Ingo was out in the pastures watching the horses. She cleaned herself off as best she could with the horses' drinking water, and put on fresh clothing, but stayed in her room the entire day, as Ingo never called her down. Could he be sorry for what he'd done?
During the next week, Ingo barely spoke to her at all: there was no need to. Malon did all her chores silently and without complaint. He only hit her once in a two-week period, and that had been for spilling the chicken feed all over the stable floor. Even when he did hit her, it was just a hard slap on the arm, not like the full-fisted punch he usually gave her for far less important blunders.
However, it didn't last. By the end of the month, he was back to his old habits, and Malon once again grew used to being hit at least four or five times a day.
Malon had known her life would be hard once her father was gone, but she had never expected it to be this hard. Ingo, for all his talk of being so much more hard-working then Talon, barely did anything at all anymore. She did all the work around the ranch, milking the cows, grooming and training the horses, tending the small garden patch, collecting the Cuccos' eggs, and cooking and cleaning up after every meal. When Ingo wasn't out 'delivering wares', he was strutting about the grounds, sometimes stopping to sit down near where Malon was working and taunt her. When he did this, she kept a smooth face and a straight back. She would not let him have an affect on her.
One night, when Ingo was out 'delivering wares', Malon took a ride on Epona out in Hyrule Field. The colt had grown into a big, strong and fast rusty mare. Her trainer delighted in her exceptional speed and agility. Malon loved racing across the fields, wind blowing back her long red hair. The excitement, the rush, the feel of the horse moving under her, it was exhilarating, and it was the only thing that gave her any pleasure these days. While she was riding, she lost all track of time.
Riding Epona back through Lon Lon Ranch's gates, Malon noticed light shining through the kitchen window and cursed. Ingo would not be pleased she had been out. She dismounted, led the horse into the stable, unsaddled the mare as quietly as possible, and left her in a stall with a nosebag full of oats.
She opened the door a crack and peered inside, hoping Ingo would be sleeping. But no, he was there, sitting at the kitchen table with the sourest look she had ever seen on his face. When he saw her, he jumped to his feet. "Where have you been, you little chit? I told you never to leave the ranch without my permission!"
Malon was frightened, but she kept her back straight and her face blank and dignified. "Epona hasn't been out on the open field in a long time, Mr. Ingo. I thought that a good long run would loosen her joi-"
"Silence!" Ingo snapped. "I don't care if the ranch is on fire when I'm out, you will not leave the property unless I tell you to!"
"You're being entirely unreasonable," said Malon, with an air as though they were discussing this over tea. She began taking out ingredients to bake the next morning's scones. "I stayed here at the ranch of my own free will. I could have left with my father and let you to deal with all the chores around here alone. I can leave when I want to. You have no power over me."
She was not aware of Ingo being beside her until it was too late, and his hand was swinging at her out of nowhere. He struck her face with great force, and she was knocked against the wall with a scream of pain. He stood there with his hand still raised, as though he wanted to hit her again, chest heaving and face purple with rage. "I have complete power over you, scrawny little monster!" he roared. Malon stared up at him, wide-eyed with fear. "You talk like that to me again, and I'll make you wish your mother had drowned you when she'd first clapped eyes on your disgusting, ungrateful face!"
When he'd gone up into the bedroom, Malon slid to the floor, hugged her knees close, and buried her face in her arms, sobbing. She'd been so scared, and he'd hit her so hard.
That was the first time Ingo had hurt her, but it most definitely would not be the last. The next six months were a nightmare.
Ingo seemed to have realized that hitting Malon made her more submissive, because as the weeks wore on, he hit her harder, more often, and for less important reasons. One time, he'd come home late and had slapped her face before going to bed, for absolutely no reason at all.
And Malon's fear of him before he had started to hit her was nothing compared to how much he scared her now. Then, she could summon the courage to scowl at him, look him in the eye, or sometimes talk to him. Since he had started hitting her, she would stiffen and lower her head whenever he walked by. She did anything he told her to without question. Anything to avoid another bruise, another black eye, another lash. Every morning, she'd wake up, feeling as though she hadn't gotten any sleep at all, and every night, she'd go to bed trying to get comfortable in her lumpy mattress up in the hayloft and aching all over.
One night, after Ingo had beaten her repeatedly with a broom handle, she decided to run away to Kakariko Village and live with her father, but he caught her saddling Epona in the early hours before dawn, and gave her such a thrashing, she would never even have thought of leaving again, even without the lock on her door that Ingo installed the very next day.
But one day, Ingo took his abuse to a whole new level.
It was a cold, chill afternoon. The wind blew exceptionally hard against the window shutters, making them rattle. Malon hadn't taken the cows out to graze; instead she left them in the barn with a bale of hay. She kept the chickens and horses in as well. The animals would not enjoy being whipped about by that harsh wind.
Ingo was sitting at the kitchen table, grumbling and groaning about how hungry he was and how lazy teenage girls were and Malon was standing by the stove, quiet as a church mouse, stirring a pot of stew, when they both heard the sound of hooves on the dirt path. Ingo leaped to his feet and raced to the bedroom, shouting something about fixing himself up. The girl stayed where she was. There was no point in trying to make herself look presentable: she knew she looked awful no matter what, with the enormous circles under her eyes and the large purple bruise on her cheek she had spotted in her reflection in the horses' water pail. Besides, Ingo completely ignored her when they received visits, seldom as they were, probably not wanting to draw attention to the awful state she was in. And maybe the visitors wanted some stew...
Outside, she heard the hooves stop, voices, and then a knock at the door. She glanced at Ingo's bedroom door worriedly. Would he come down and answer the door, or-
"Let the guests in, girl, don't keep them waiting!" Ingo's voice hollered from upstairs. So Malon put down her ladle, shuffled over to the door and opened it.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Ganondorf stood there, flanked by two soldiers and looking down at her with a smile that did not reach his hawk-like eyes. She just stood there like a dumb mute, paralysed with fear. She was bumped out of the way by Ingo, who had emerged from his room wearing his good suit. "My Lord! What a pleasant surprise!" Ingo exclaimed with an oily tone he used with guests. "You honour us with your presence! Please, won't you come inside!" To Malon, he hissed, "Go and see to his Majesty's horses, girl." She was only too willing to obey.
When her task was done, she retreated into her tiny room in the loft, pleased to have a moment to herself. Whatever Ganondorf wanted, it was none of her concern. She sat down on her bed, careful not to fall asleep, and waited for the king and his men to come into the stable so that she could saddle their horses again. It didn't take as long as she had expected. The three men waited silently, but she dared not look at them; she did not want to offend. When they were gone, she walked into the kitchen.
She caught a glimpse of Ingo's purple face, angrier then she'd ever seen it, before he had seized her and threw her bodily across the room. She screamed and almost lost her balance, but managed to steady herself against the wall.
"His Majesty says this ranch has scarcely improved at all since the last time he's seen it," Ingo said quietly, dangerously. "Do you know what that means, little bitch?" Malon shook her head, a whimper escaping her lips. Ingo looked so angry, he looked ready to kill her. "It means it hasn't changed at all. It means this place hasn't improved. It means you've been slacking on your duties, shirking your chores!" His last words had come out as a shout. He began to circle the table to get closer to her, and she circled with him to stay as far away as she could, eyes wide, heart hammering.
"N-no, I've been trying hard, I swear!" she stuttered. "Please, y-you have to believe me! I-I can't work any harder th-then I am!"
"Liar! You did this on purpose! You wanted me to look bad in front of the king so that your 'daddy' would get his precious ranch back!"
"No! I swear!"
Suddenly, Ingo lunged at her, but she dodged him and threw herself at the door. She clawed at the doorknob, but couldn't get it open. Her mind had gone all fuzzy. Hurry! her head screamed, but her hands would not obey. Just as she managed to turn the knob, Ingo seized her by the middle and flung her away from the door, knocking her into the table and stunning her momentarily. When her head cleared again, she saw Ingo standing over her with a horsewhip in his hand and a mad, red glint in his eyes. She screamed and tried to back away, but she was already flattened against the toppled table. With a whoosh and a snap, the whip came down.
It was the most horrifying experience of her life. He beat her for longer then he ever had before. He kicked her, punched her, slapped her, and whipped her. There was no pattern, he was just intent on hurting her as much as he could. Malon screamed and screamed, until her voice grew hoarse, begging him to stop, but he never did, he just struck her over and over as she huddled defenceless against the table and screamed for mercy. Pain shot through every inch of her body, skin stinging, flesh burning, muscle throbbing. Finally, after what seemed like years of punishment, he tossed the whip onto the floor and went to bed.
How she made it back to her bed that night, Malon had no idea. She vaguely remembered stumbling from the house to the stable, covered in blood and sweat, her clothing in shreds, and collapsing several times. When she awoke the next morning after a sleep full of nightmares, it was well after sunrise, and Ingo was out in the pastures watching the horses. She cleaned herself off as best she could with the horses' drinking water, and put on fresh clothing, but stayed in her room the entire day, as Ingo never called her down. Could he be sorry for what he'd done?
During the next week, Ingo barely spoke to her at all: there was no need to. Malon did all her chores silently and without complaint. He only hit her once in a two-week period, and that had been for spilling the chicken feed all over the stable floor. Even when he did hit her, it was just a hard slap on the arm, not like the full-fisted punch he usually gave her for far less important blunders.
However, it didn't last. By the end of the month, he was back to his old habits, and Malon once again grew used to being hit at least four or five times a day.