Author's Note: I should say that this story is slightly 'alternate universe'. I've placed Zelda at about age seventeen for her first meeting with Ganondorf here, much older than she is in Ocarina of Time. I just didn't want people thinking she was much younger than that.
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He always got what he wanted.
It was the nature of his Kingship. He was destined simply to have whatever he desired.
Physical desire is the thing that attracted him first to the young daughter of his liege, the King of Hyrule. Though he swore fealty to this lord, Ganondorf felt no real obligation to obey. The words he had spoken meant nothing to him. The hunger in his eyes had always betrayed the words from his mouth; if only the king had the wisdom to see it.
The Golden Power drew Ganondorf to Hyrule, but Princess Zelda made him linger. So his eyes always found her and fell upon her when she entered his presence. When he had the time he would seek her out to watch her yet again, eager to discover everything about her.
In the courtyard, the princess obeyed only the call of her own youth and innocence, playing idly with her ladies among the apple blossoms of late spring. The tight bodice of her gown and the loose hair of her maidenhood delighted her anonymous observer as he watched from the comfort of his guest room. He leaned back onto the frame of the window and placed his hand to his chin, a small smile upon his lips.
What would he do with a woman like that if he had her? Beyond her physical charm there was the attraction of her total virginity. Quietly, he had made inquiries about her virtues and learned to his delight that the princess was more likely to partake in late night reading than late night party games. To some men this would make her boring but the King of the Desert had had his fill of fast women. He wondered instead what this bookish, protected, royal girl would do for him. Her innocence was a charm, like pure magic, which had infected him and, much to his annoyance, left him powerless.
He would speak with her, to get an impression of her mind, and would learn she was somewhat of a prodigy child.
Good. That was good.
He could not tolerate the princess as a stupid girl.
Still, the Desert King starved for more about her; desired more to see for himself. Her father held a celebration feast for his nobles for some good peasant harvest. Whatever the cause for celebration, he did not care. It was an opportune chance. Ganondorf hoped she would not disappoint him.
And she did not.
At their first meeting he could feel frustration radiating from her. She had hidden it as best she could, but Ganondorf always seemed particularly well-suited to sensing negative energies. The princess bowed and curtsied as much as royal protocol demanded, but did nothing more. She was already set against him. He could pour on as much charisma and charm as he had to his disposal but it would be useless. A challenge.
Her defiance only drew him more.
A dance. She would despise dancing with him, but she could not refuse the request. Ganondorf had her trapped.
"Will you die here and now by a single dance with our good and loyal lord?" her father sighed. She did not answer. Her ill-concealed frown spoke for her. Reluctantly, she held out her hand to Ganondorf and flashed a patronizing smile. She seemed repulsed by his touch, as though she could retch at any moment but held it in only for the sake of duty to her country.
Good lass, Ganondorf thought with a wicked smile.
For a moment Ganondorf felt a strange swell of pride. She was not squirming or shaking in his arms. He knew full well she did not do this for his pleasure. The princess was stronger than he had anticipated. Even if the girl feared him she was clever enough to know how to hide it.
"Your father is indeed a generous man to allow me a dance with his only daughter," he spoke dripping with false sincerity. She answered with a short, "Yes, Milord," to appease him. She turned her head slightly to the side, keeping it upright. Never would she bow her head to him, for they were of equal rank in the eyes of Goddess-given law. To do otherwise would be to invite an unnatural imbalance of order. She kept him in sight, even if it be the corner of her eye. Like a sly lioness, he thought, and the idea pleased him.
"Princess, you do me a great honour of dancing with me," he continued, receiving the same answer as before.
He remained quiet then, hoping the silence would make her nervous. When he finally spoke again, he asked, "What are you looking for, Princess?"
She looked up to him, meeting his wicked eyes. For a moment she thought she saw a great fire in them. 'Just the reflection of the candles,' she told herself. "I was keeping watch on my father's house. That is all," she told him.
"No, Princess. What are you looking for in this world?" He corrected. "What in this world do you desire the most?"
This time her answer was more thoughtful and substantial, as if she had been anticipating him asking it all along. "Peace. Peace for Hyrule." She looked up at him, eager to see his reaction.
"Peace, eh?" Ganondorf could not help but grin. "You wish for peace. For yourself as well?"
"Everyone wants peace, Milord."
"Peace doesn't seem very exciting," He leaned in towards her ear, "What do you really want?"
She looked at him again. "Whatever you do not."
Her vague response pleased him again. The dance ended and he whispered to her once more, "Well played, Princess." His lips nearly brushed her ears and the proximity finally threw the princess off her game. She stood dazed in the crowd as the King fled, brought back to the reality of the ballroom by the ladies who attended her.
From his window, Ganondorf remained a witness to the princess's simple pleasures for nearly a half hour. It was then that she must have finally sensed his eyes upon her and she turned and looked towards the wall where his window lay. The aura of child-like innocence and happiness that had surrounded her died away as her gay smile turned to a sour frown. She looked straight into his eyes for a moment. Before her ladies could notice and follow the direction of their mistress's eyes the princess had fled.
The walls of the courtyard were her fortress, or she liked to tell herself. When she was a little girl she would hide in the courtyard garden among the bushes, knowing she would only be found when she wanted to be. It was an elaborate game she enjoyed and the castle guard and her nanny hated.
"My Lady, what troubles you? You dashed off in such a hurry, I-"
"It is fine. Please," she raised a gentle hand. "Leave me for a moment."
Her ladies looked about themselves for a moment, unsure. Yet she urged them forward and finally they obeyed their mistress.
Zelda had propped herself behind a large willow. Here, the window was blind to her. How long had he been watching her? She leaned over to steal a quick glance, curious if he was still there. Sure enough, his watch had not failed and his eyes lay where they had last spotted her, darting behind the tree.
She leaned back in and sighed. Even here, in her courtyard, she was not safe. He had managed to find the only window that faced onto this particular courtyard, and damn him for it!
She balled up her fists and considered this for a moment longer. How well did he understand her? This seemed as planned as a chess move. Then what would hers be? Choose a piece: queen or king?
Queen, of course. Pray that she moved as quickly.
And he was waiting for her.
The window onto the courtyard faced out from a rarely-used hallway between castle wings. It was large and empty and comparitively uninteresting. It was also, due to its lack of tapestries and adornments, cool and damp. Only the lowly dungeons could equal it. Suitable place for such a man as Ganondorf, she thought.
Yet there was a contrast between these uninspired surroundings and this lone Gerudo Lord. He was, as usual, exquisitely adorned in gold and jet armour. Even as he lazily leaned on the sil of the window he held himself in regal bearing. Zelda knew well that this kind of presentation was something one did not simply learn overnight.
"You've left your playtime to see me? How exciting," he mocked, watching her from the corner of her eye. His central gaze was still fixated on the courtyard below.
So locked into her duty and protocol, Zelda managed a small courtsey before standing back and crossing her arms in silent disapproval of the King's words.
"So, why have you come to me?" he asked.
"You know full well," she said, her words still filled with the same malice and contempt they always had reserved for him.
He grinned. "Of course we do."
"My maids do not like being spied upon as they relax in the royal courtyard." She pointed to the window. "Those grounds are for the enjoyment of the royal family only. If you are not invited then cannot come."
She was not as happy and innocent as she had been before, he realized. He had actually enjoyed watching her smile and run about like a child with her hair in the wind. This version amused him slightly less. Yet this version was focused only on him and he always craved attention. "Do you enjoy the piano, Milady?"
His disregard for her real question vexed her further. "That was not what I asked you."
"Let me make it up to you, somehow." He removed himself from the window sil and approached her. "I would like to share my musical abilities with you. Think of it as a trade for allowing me to bear witness to the innocent beauty of watching you and your ladies at leisure."
She narrowed her eyes at him. More games? Likely. She would play too, then. "Very well. Show me these abilities you have. I shall be the judge of how worthy your repayment is."
Zelda said this, knowing very well that this King of the Gerudo could not play the piano at all and that he would never be able to repay her. She knew that at her request he would try to sneak his way out of it or admit he was trying to fool her. The game would be up and she would win the battle.
Yet when the king asked her to accompany him to the music room she admitted to herself he had surprised her once more. How far would his game go now
The princess stood behind him in the deserted music hall as he played a series of ever-difficult pieces. Her face flushed as he expertly started a work she herself had only just learned to play on her own, and he was much better at it. Out of his sight, she clenched her fists once more.
"Would you sit by me?" he asked, turning to her. He patted the space beside him on the bench. "We might play a duo, if you wish."
She couldn't even bat an eye at his request, so she seated herself beside him and kept herself rigid and straight-backed, as she had always been taught. "I will sit, but my hands are too weak to play today." Bodily weakness she would admit to, but never one of the mind.
"That is a shame," he admitted almost truthfully as he began to play a piece Zelda had never heard before.
"What is this?"
"Something I composed myself."
"So, now you are a composer as well?"
"I am a man of many talents, you may be delighted to know," he said as he flashed her a mischevious grin. Zelda tried to hold back the flush in her cheeks.
"You speak in such a manner to a lady?" She asked.
"I speak only as I am spoken to."
"Do you put forth that I speak to you poorly?"
"It is a theory. Would you endorse it?"
"I speak as I would based on standing. If you would have me speak to you in any other way you should find some place better to stand.
The King continued to play on, then stopped abruptly. She looked at him in confusion, hoping he had forgotten the notes to play so she could secretly revel in his public failure. Instead, he asked her, "Do you enjoy teasing men, princess?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Play for me."
"I told you-"
"You would please me," His voice was cooler now, but not loud. Something in it made her genuinely terrified. The King stood and Zelda shifted towards the middle of the bench. She could sense him standing over her. What should she play? Something simple, for she knew anything difficult would cause her to falter. She could feel her hands shaking and felt shame for it.
Zelda began without another word between the two of them. He would see that her weak hands excuse was indeed a lie, but it did not matter. He probably would have known it, anyway.
Her heart raced, concerned with the enemy behind her she could not see. How she wished to turn around, even to run. But she would not have her courage abandon her so pathetically.
"What is this?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested.
"Something simple I was taught long ago, when I first learned."
She felt his hands on her shoulders; felt him lean his head down to hers. Her hands waivered slightly at this, but they continued to find the right keys. His touch, at first gentle, became rougher as he gripped tighter at her. His breath inched closer to her ear and cheek. The song became unintentionally faster. She was unable to concentrate.
His hands brushed her hair away from her face in a slow, methodical manner. As he leaned in even closer the heat on her became almost unbearable. His lips brushed her neck and she lost her song.
Her hands fled from the keys, leaving only the sound of a few wrong notes momentarily ringing in the air. He seized her roughly and she gasped. Caught in this foreign experience, Zelda had no concept of what to do. With one large arm he had tied her own to her body; with the other he held her head steady for his lips.
Again, she attempted a more concerted effort to resist, but he held her ever tighter.
He growled into her neck, hoping to subdue her. A shiver ran through her and he felt it, urged on by it. Her breathing quickened to an unnatural pace and his massive arm rose and fell to the rhythm of her bosom. She remained rigid and still like a fallen animal in the field.
'If I do not move then I am like a shadow.'
It did not discourage the king. He read her stillness as approval and the heat of his desire rose inside of him. He ran his lips again along her neck as her head turned limply to its side.
Had she given up this easily? It had not been much of a fight, but he wasn't thinking about that now. All that mattered this very moment was that he hadn't had a woman in a few weeks and he needed one now or he might possibly explode.
How fleeting power is.
As her shock wore away, the princess finally realized that her legs were actually free and began to kick with them. She managed to knock over the bench in the King's direction and it fell onto him. They were forced apart and Zelda fell forward onto the piano keys with a thud of random notes.
She turned to Ganondorf, sure he would run after her, but he did not. He held back and watched her through slanted, hateful eyes. He blamed her for this–for all of this.
Damned bitch of a girl.
The look in his eyes was powerful enough to convince Zelda it was time to run, regardless of how cowardly it would make her look. She bolted without more hesitation and he watched her run, enchanted by how the folds of her dress moved about while cursing her for denying him his pleasure.
He reminded himself, as she ran, that she would be back.
She would have no other choice.