Whoa, an attempt here to ACTUALLY PUT SOME PLOT IN.

Eeyup, I have a sick mind, don't I? But actually, the Ganon/Sheik is more to get all you people to pity Sheik. I figured there had to be a reason why Sheik would be doing the things he does against Ganon, not just because it's 'right' and all that stuff.

And Nasuerah is, actually, an NPC. Not an original character. So... uh... there.

He'd be damned, but he actually did what Ganon suggested. Or ordered, more like, but he didn't take orders from anyone, whether or not they'd just done things to him that kept him from sleeping.

There was a closet nearby. Upon opening it he found that there was merely an assortment of royal garments inside it in various shapes and sizes. Had Ganon just left the royal cabinets as they were? It appeared so. It didn't have any of the Dark King's clothes in it, in any case. So Sheik picked out the first thing he saw: A dull, rust-colored tunic that was embroidered with gold. He didn't pick it for its class, because it had none, and it was fairly plain, but it was easy to move around in.

Who knew when that might come in handy?

The trousers he donned as well silently and quickly. There was not a soul in the room besides him. He neither saw anyone nor heard anyone throughout the entire day, if it even was day; for all he knew it could've been the middle of the night. There weren't any windows. No light came through the crack underneath the massive door.

He had blood and Gods-know what else on him, but he was used to bleeding in large quantities. It was the pain that bothered him.

It was a hollow ache somewhere in his lower stomach. Internal tearing, he self-diagnosed himself, and possibly other stress-related problems. He now had a chance to look over his wrist, and did so: it had been mildly splinted and wrapped in some bandages, but not nearly enough.

He picked out the best cape he could find and tore it to tiny shreds with his teeth and his good arm, then used that to wrap it further. Screw the Royal Family, they'd left him to this fate because of their own stupidity. Screw Ganon. Screw all of them. It was up to him now to look out for himself.

He looked, and felt, like something half dead. His cheeks and face were probably bruised and cut. He knew he had a bump rising on his forehead. There was no mirror in the room for him to see, and he hadn't gotten to the bathroom yet.

But finally he did. If he was going to make some attempt at self preservation, he had to know the layout of the room, though it pained him to walk and even more to turn his head. It was more than painful—it was excruciating.

Through a small curtained archway was a marble-covered bath. Upon entering he looked around: There was no sign of anyone. Good. Up to the ceiling then: it was decorated with Greater Fairies, each one holding a weapon of some sort, and adorned with triforces. Some were in flight, some were calling out; it seemed to be a battle scene of some kind, perhaps from the Great Wars that had taken place so long ago. Ganon had left this, too. Only the Hylian King would have ordered so ostentatious a creation.

He slipped into the shadows at a slight noise, the unlatching of a door.

It was a Gerudo girl. This one was dressed in the normal warm-weather attire, little more than a bustier over a semiopaque pair of loose pants, and slippers upon her dainty feet. Her red hair curled over narrow shoulders and down to her waist. Her skin was brown and tanned, and her eyes were black, and bright as well.

He couldn't use his cloaking magic. He was too weak.

After her came six more of the same attire, each slightly different in appearance but no less lovely. They paused, seeming to look around, but the leader girl saw him at once and struck a low curtsy. The rest of them followed suit. Sheik clutched at his shoulder with his good arm and stared at them, waiting cautiously to see if they would attack or do otherwise.

"Master Sheikah," the leader girl said in a voice like water, "I am Nasuerah. These are my assistants, Tayla, Sharei, Keisoro, Neika, Manae, and Nabool."

Na-sway-ruh. A strange name. Sheik gave a stiff nod of his head, which might have been a small bow under other circumstances, but he was too weak to be bothered with courtesy right now.

"We're here to attend on you."

"I don't wish to be attended on," he said gruffly. He didn't trust them. He much preferred to bathe and dress himself, thank-you-very-much.

"He wouldn't like that," she said, folding her hands into a steeple. There was no question about who 'he' might be. They all knew.

"I'm not here to do as He likes."

"It would be in your best interest." She gave a small motion of her hand and the one called Neika went to the enormous bath in the center of the room. She made some kind of signal in the air and water poured seemingly from nowhere, warm and steaming. All kinds of things were assorted around the sides of the bath. Sheik didn't want to know what they were; he half feared finding out.

"I… thank you for caring," he said, still stiffly, "But I'm quite fine."

Her eyes glittered. "If he discovers we have not done his bidding, we will all be punished," she said slowly, "But I will ask nothing from you but your silence if you do not wish for us to assist with your bathing."

Assist with your bathing. Now there was an unfamiliar term. "I swear by my honor as a Sheikah and as a man," he said firmly. Anything to get them out of there. The bath, despite it being located in the bedroom of his dire enemy, looked more inviting than anything he'd seen in a long time.

"That is a good thing to swear by," she said, and they all turned. "You may reach me by the bell at any time."

There was a golden pullstring on the wall, which he assumed led to the bell, and so he nodded. With that they left, and he didn't bother to hear the door close before stripping and slipping into the giant tub. Ahhh, bliss. Utter, utter bliss and nothing else could fill his mind. His various pains and aches diminished in the warmth and no matter how much blood and disgusting… fluids… he washed off himself, the water never seemed to dirty.

He didn't use anything on the sides of the tub, though none of the various bottles looked as if they'd even been touched. He had a sneaking suspicion they'd been laid out just for him, maybe, but he couldn't be sure and he wouldn't use them even if they were. Ganon was the kind of guy who'd find it hilarious if Sheik mysteriously went bald or caught his scalp on fire.

Sheik took one of the towels on the side of the bath and dried himself off in a matter of seconds: when he finished he was red all over but very clean. Who knew when Ganon would be back? There wasn't a chance in hell he'd be caught in such a vulnerable state when that sick freak decided to appear again.

He carefully folded the towel and set it right back where it had been originally. He didn't know what else to do with it. Throw it on the floor? Into the bath? No, both of those seemed wrong. This place seemed to make you want to be neat, anyways. He dressed and then walked back into the main room, looking for somewhere out of the way so that he could see Ganon before Ganon could see him if he arrived. There! Against the cabinet. He'd be mildly out of the way there.

And so he sat. And waited.

And waited.

"Ai, he's so handsome, Neika exclaimed back in the servant's room that adjoined the main one. "I love watching the prisoners He brings in this room."

"Well, it's the only entertainment we get," Tayla said, sounding angry. "We're locked inside. Kitchen here, bedrooms there, sitting-room over there… and then the door into His bathroom. Our world is contained in this small space, is it not?"

"It is safer than being outside," Nasuerah said gently, her black eyes wide and thoughtful. She was the wise one of the group, though she was only sixteen. "We have never been tortured or killed, not one of us."

"Because we are Gerudo," Neika said. "We are the King's brethren. And I think he finds me attractive." She twined her arms seductively about herself and winked at Nasuerah. "Though I'd like to have that one in my bed even more." She jerked her chin towards the door that led to Ganondorf's bedroom, pressing her lips together.

"Hush," said Nasuerah sharply. "The Sheikah take only their own kind as partners. Surely you know that?"

"Well, there was that one Sheikah a while back who took that Hylian man as her husband, wasn't there?" said Sharei, who was twenty-seven years old and remembered. "It was a big scandal. I don't remember what became of the son, though."

"It doesn't matter," said Nasuerah. "None of you will attempt to seduce him on my watch. Is that clear?"

They all scowled.

"What if he tries to seduce us? " one of them suggested.

Nasuerah stared at her. "Yes, and hell will freeze over, maybe. I am going to bring the poor young man some food. He looked half-starved to me." She went to the kitchen, leaving the rest of the slave girls to talk amongst themselves in heavy tones.

Sheik's eyes slid to the side as someone approached his peripheral vision, and he silently got to his feet, leaning into the cabinet so they wouldn't be able to see him. He was quiet as a cat. No sound of feet on stone, or arm bracing against the wall.

"Master Sheikah," came a calm voice. One of the slave girls.

What was her name? Nah-sway-ruh. Nasuerah. Right, he remembered.

He showed himself, stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the room, provided by dancing candleflames and one center chandelier. Nasuerah had a tray in hand, heaped with all kinds of delicacies such as he'd never seen in his life. She gave a half-curtsy and approached him slowly, as if afraid he might lash out and kill her.

"I thought perhaps… you might wish food," she said.

"… Thanks," Sheik said, taking the tray from her and seating himself cross-legged on the stone floor. There were no chairs, nor tables.

"What is your name?" Nasuerah asked him, staring directly at him with those black eyes. He didn't like the weight of her stare, but he didn't say anything. She was just a girl. Younger than him. "Sheik," he replied.

"Ah, Sheik the Sheikah," she said, and a faint smile came to her lips. "A fitting name."

"Yes, it was my father's idea," he said, not knowing why he was even telling her this. "My mother wanted to call me Kaepora Gaebora. This was preferable."

"Kaepora? As in… the ancient sage?"

"Yes."

He still looked at the food. "It is all-right to eat," she said, trying to urge him into it. Sheik didn't know how to reply to that. He had secret suspicions that the food might possibly be—

"It is not drugged," she added. "If Ganon used drugs in his food, it would mean much more trouble for us all than he already gives us."

Nevermind. He ate. He caught a flash of red at the edge of his vision and turned his head. All the other slave girls were behind the door of the bathroom, and soft giggling could be heard.

"…Are they hiding, or something?" he asked.

Nasuerah turned her head. "No. They are merely stupid girls. They have not shared the bed of a man in far too long and never with someone as handsome as you. But they are harmless. They will not talk to you."

"Why not?" he wanted to know.

"Because it is forbidden," she said, sounding shocked.

"Why?"

"You…" she rubbed her temples. "The Dark King considers his prisoners to be his property. Only he is allowed to speak to them, and me, because that is my job."

There was a silence. He finished what was on the tray, his hunger satiated for now, and she took it without any sound. But after she returned she sat back down in a rustle of garments, and asked.

"Why are you here, his personal prisoner? It is both a blessing and a curse."

"You're asking me why he wants me all the way up here instead of in one of those dingy cells down there?"

"Yes."

He told her everything. Well, everything but the night he and Link had shared. That was something different, something special, and he couldn't talk about that to her. But he felt like he could trust her. Something in her eyes, maybe. By the end of the story those same eyes were alight with hope, her cheeks rosy and a smile apparent on her small, expressive mouth.

"That is wonderful!" she said. "Maybe—" she looked around conspiratorially, then leaned forward. "Maybe we will all go home soon, no?"

Sheik lowered his eyes. And then he decided to confide in her. "Do you know any way out of the palace?"

"Out of the palace!" she looked even more shocked. "But that's impossible! He's sealed every way out. If there was one, we'd have found it. You're a prisoner, like us, but you'll see it's not so bad if you give into what he wants. After a while you kind of…" she fluttered her hands. "Forget."

Sheik crossed his legs. "I don't want to forget," he said. "He's not going to get to me."

There was a fastening sound at the door, and the sound of many bolts being slid out all of a sudden. Nasuerah jumped to her feet, whisked his tray up, and bolted out the door towards the slave quarters. Sheik stood as well, clasping his bad wrist with his good arm and looking at the door warily.

It opened. In walked Ganon; Sheik did not shrink away from the advancing form, even as he backed into the edge of the bed he and Nasuerah had been sitting next to. His knees almost buckled, but he held strong, unwavering, stared Ganon straight in the eye.

"Ah, my Sheikah. I see you were smart enough to do as I commanded." He took Sheik's chin in his hand, turned it up to the light, examined the fine bones of his face and his pale skin, which had taken on a kind of luminescence of its own. Though the bruises of the previous rape remained.

"I'm not 'your' anything."

He anticipated the blow, ducked, came back to a standing position. A hand came up and grabbed the front of his shirt. He was not so much smaller than Ganon that the Gerudo could lift him into the air, but he was pulled forward, then shoved onto the bed, and went sprawling back, his knees folding beneath him even as he rolled to the side to try and get away, and was pinned by one arm. He didn't know where he would go if he had gotten away. The other corner of the room? Yeah, right. Real smart.

"Unfortunately, you are." Ganon's eyes shone dangerously. Like a predator. He put out one hand and slid the tunic off the side of Sheik's shoulder.

"He does not scream," Neika said to Nasuerah as they sat in the anteroom of the slave girl chambers. "And he does not cry; he isn't begging, either." They both knew what Ganon was doing to Sheik in the adjacent room.

"He is a Sheikah," Nasuerah replied, as if that explained everything. But silently she folded her hands in her lap. She normally didn't care for anyone Ganon brought into his personal bedchambers, but this was different.

She had drugged Sheik's food. She'd had no choice.

Ganon had forced the packet into her hands. "Slip some in every day," he'd commanded.

"I must know what it is, Master, so that I can know how much to put."

"It makes one susceptible to mind-reading magic. Just a pinch every day. Force it down his throat if you have to, but make sure he takes it, one way or another. And be kind to him, earn his trust. It will make it all the sweeter when he is broken."

And then he'd left. Nasuerah sat now on the small couch, her head bent, her black eyes scanning the backs of her hands as she heard the sound of the Dark King's muted laughter drift through the walls, low and dangerous.

"I had to do it," she whispered to herself, fists clenching.

"What?" Neika asked.

"Nothing," Nasuerah said loudly. "Nothing at all."