DRAGONCLAW
By Sienna Moony
Disclaimer: I do not own any fraction of Zelda or its characters. They all belong to Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto.
Note: I'm sorry the last chapter sucked. Really, I am. I swear. Please don't hurt me.
Chapter 6
The Face of the Enemy
"Lord Ganondorf?" The attendant entered the vast chamber that the Hylian General had chosen for his sitting room, bowing low, though his eyes nervously flicked across his surroundings. On the smooth stone walls hung tapestries of Western origin, images woven from exotic fabric, depicting gruesome battles and sensual courtesans. Pillars stood on either side of a platform with plush seats gracing its surface, and a wide, dark wooden table that was so red it seemed stained with blood, stood in the center of the room. The man bowed before his superior on the stairs on the platform, the taller, dark-skinned man studying the servant. He was young, probably having seen no more than 25 festivals, but huge bags that hung over his eyes betrayed his appearance, making him seem much, much older. The stress caused by the events of the last week had left every worker in the palace feeling drained and weary, the Princess's kidnapping affecting them physically and emotionally. Besides that, it was clear the attendant would rather be someplace else, uncomfortable in Ganondorf's presence, and the dark-skinned man suppressed a sinister grin. All the men were intimidated by him, and he went through great lengths to ensure it. He felt that their fear made it much easier for him to control them and keep them in line. Finishing his musings, he let out a heaving sigh, gesturing for the man to rise.
"What is it?" He asked impatiently. His voice was deep and scratchy, like he had something caught in his throat that prevented him from being perfectly articulate. He rested his black eyes on the servant, who shifted under his gaze while Ganon played with the hilt of his sword.
"Forgive me, sir, but there are two travelers here to see you. They claim to have important information regarding the Princess's abduction." He finished, coughing nervously. The servant tried to keep a skeptical expression on his face, but his anticipation at the possibility of soon finding the princess found its way into his voice, making him squeak slightly when he spoke. Ganondorf feigned a look of delight, trying to mirror the tone of voice of the valet, then commanded him to allow the travelers admission into his sitting chambers. As he waited for the man to return with his guests, a troubled shadow passed over his mind. He considered every possibility, wondering if anyone could have stumbled upon some evidence that could lead to his downfall. He felt his left heart beat frantically, and the inevitable ache from its brother on the right as it tried to control the other's pace. As it did so, his mind regained itself as well, and he realized how impossible the notion was. He'd taken every precaution conceivable, and no mere civilians would even have the chance of accidentally finding some information which could foil his plans. Unless, he mused, his own guards were stupid enough to let some information slip.
He sighed again, his massive olive-coloured hand going up to scratch his balding scalp. He noticed a few brilliant red clumps fall to the ground, and he cursed, disgusted at his own apparent mortality. He knew he was aging, and the signs pointing towards his approaching death were too strong to ignore. Nabooru was great with child, and he could be sure that with his failing health, the infant would be a boy. When that happened, not even the Goddesses could save him from his fate. . .
Link and Malon stepped hesitantly through the door as the royal guards clad in deep blue clothe and shining silver armour held it open for them. They'd awoken early that morning, paying the innkeeper for allowing them to spend the night, and heading over to the castle. The quest for the princess was apparently unsuccessful, as the guards had eagerly ushered the two of them into the castle once Malon had told them they had information about the whereabouts of the Princess, and would only speak with Ganondorf, the man in charge. This had been a lie, of course, but she'd explained to Link in a hushed whisper that their best chances of finding Zelda would be with the help of the castle, and they needed to get into their ranks somehow. Link glanced to them for encouragement, but the expressions of pity that he received in return made it clear that their host was not one to be meddled with. Malon held herself proud and upright, freshly-robed in a marine blue tunic and cream vest which they had purchased for her the night before, spending the last grave coin of their funds. He thought enviously of her strength and courage, though marveling at the way she acted, despite all that she'd been through.
The room they entered was too gorgeous for words, but Link had gotten used to being awed at everything he saw. The rest of the world was far different than his humble forest home, and he knew that wherever he went, he would continue to be impressed. The man who greeted them had an aura of power which demanded great respect, and Link recognized him for his dark skin and red hair as a man of the desert. He stood tall, his figure looming over the two as he approached them, his heavy brown armour clanking together as he moved, and he might once have been a very handsome man. Now, however, his scalp was drying and patches of his hair had fallen out, giving him the appearance of a sick rodent. His beady black eyes studied them, gesturing for them to take a seat at the finely polished table. As Malon moved to do so, her muddy boots tracked dirt on the gorgeous rug, and Link winced. He politely declined the seat, not wanting to do the same in the beautiful room. He removed his cap, running his fingers along the lining as he nervously smiled at his host, willing the conversation to begin.
"So you say you have information regarding the princess?" The Gerudo asked, his booming voice echoing off the stained windows and brass chandeliers. Link drew in a sharp breath as he gathered the courage to shake his head, and the man's eyebrows shot up.
"Please, sir, we have no information. . . we just wish to help in her rescue." Link said, his voice hesitant, though strong and determined. The man – Malon had assumed he was Ganondorf, the General in charge of the kingdom until Princess Zelda was found – frowned at them, gazing at them austerely. Link ignored the harsh glance and continued to speak.
"I know it sounds ridiculous, sir, but I've been raised knowing that it would be my destiny to save Hyrule. A shadow has been growing in my heart and mind, and I believe that saving Princess Zelda is what I must do, so please accept our aid." He noticed Malon grimace at his speech, and he had to admit how ridiculous it must have sounded. Ganon stared at him incredulously, and he smiled hopefully in response.
"What kind of FOOL do you take me for? Surely you jest." The General replied, finally, stepping down from the platform which he'd so eagerly returned to after welcoming his guests. Link stared blankly, shocked at the blunt comment and harsh tone of voice the taller man had adopted.
"Of course n--"
"Guards! Seize these two and remove them from my sight!" Ganondorf cried, the doors quickly opening as six palace guards rushed through, moving to grab the travelers. Link and Malon leapt to their feet, whirling around to fend off the guards who attempted to hold them in place.
"Sir!" Link called over his shoulder, "Please, sir, my name is Link--" He was not given a chance to finish his sentence as one of the castle soldiers shot him a glance so silencing and strong that Link found himself lost in its depths, unable to continue. The guard was a young man, about two years older than Link, with hair as blond as sunlight and blood-red eyes. He gave the younger man a meaningful gaze and Link understood that it was in his best interest to not reveal his name. Unfortunately, Ganon had caught the statement the young soldier had attempted to muffle, and waved a hand to stop and dismiss the guards.
He studied Link intently, his eyes piercing the young man's flesh, causing him to shiver. He realized his mistake that – whoever the guard was – had tried to save him from.
"What did you say, boy?" The General asked, his voice sounding especially raspy. Link felt the bile rise in his throat as an extreme feeling of dread settled in his stomach.
"N-nothing, sir." Link blurted, grabbing Malon's hand and turning to go towards the door. "We'll be going now, if you'd like." He glanced over his shoulder and noticed Ganon's eyes flash as he waved a hand in their direction. A cry escaped from his lips and Malon gasped as a sensation of an icy hand clenching every bone his body, and they stood, frozen in their spots.
"What did you say? What's your name?" Ganondorf repeated, a barely concealed glee leaking into his words, though his tone was stern.
"Link." He replied, feeling a cold sweat collecting on the back of his neck.
"Link what?" The Gerudo's voice was barely above a whisper, but was audible none-the-less, as if their fear amplified any noise he made. Link struggled to think up a fake last name, his mind buzzing as he searched for an answer, but the cold grasp seemed to ensnare his mind, as well, and all he could come up with was what he already knew as fact.
"Dragonclaw." He whispered, then watched as Ganon's facial expression warped into some vulgar mix of comprehension, fear, loathing, and joy. Every nightmare that Link had ever experienced was embodied in Ganon's face and he felt that he was looking his own death in the eyes. He fought the temptation to break down into a fit of tears, turning to Malon for strength. Her hand was still trapped in his own, but he found the touch comforting and only wished that he could control his body to grasp it tighter. Even with the provided support, tremors threatened to disturb his body, and the freezing claw that clenched him seemed to mirror what a coffin would feel like.
"Dragonclaw." Ganon hissed, his eyes widening. He ran a hand over his scalp, his sick red hair falling off in patches. Though Link felt Malon tense in disgust, the desert man paid no heed, staring at Link, licking his lips in a dry, greedy anticipation.
"LINK Dragonclaw. . ."