A/N: Something, something Linktober stuff. Prompt: Witch.


Witch, they called her, back when she was a little thing, too young to understand hatred.

They still do and it tastes a little sour. But, they aren't wrong; she is a witch, perhaps the most powerful of her kind. Zelda was born blessed by the Goddesses, pink-tinged with the glow of Wisdom before she ever understood what that actually meant.

And even if it stings, it's a title that gives her a shred of hope, personifying the power that she holds so innately in the palms of her hands.

The dreams haunt her. Darkened skies and Hyrule Field burning. An olive-skinned man with hair that glows red like embers. The end looming before them, far more realistic than a kind future. Dark and foreboding images that rack her brain, certainly not for a budding child.

But Zelda is a witch and she has no choice but to see these things. It's willed by the Goddesses, and all of her brethren that came before. A veritable coven of Zeldas and Heroes, and Villains as well, over and over again in a forever-destined loop.

Zelda knows of the boy. The boy hasn't heard of her, not yet.

Because she's a witch, and while it isn't the future she sees, she still knows these half-truths, bitter-tasting glimpses into the possibilities of what can still come. Cognitive wistfulness bleeds into fear, because if they don't do something the only option left leads to their doom.

Her father never listens. Still doesn't now. Doesn't want to think of the worst in people. Doesn't think that his daughter is old enough to know anything of import.

Zelda is a witch, though, and maybe the worst of her kind. Weighed down with the expectation of the world because everyone else sees a fresh young thing that's still green in the knees. Never mind the wisdom that's been tattooed into her blood just like the dimly lit marking that sometimes finds the back of her hand.

Impa knows better because Impa has seen the worst- a darkened, evil thing that had to be sealed at the bottom of a well.

"It must be true," said Impa to her when she came back, though it wasn't as though she ever doubted.

Because Zelda is a witch, and some people know better than to question such powers- especially ones bestowed by destiny itself. Visions and quests, dreams and the future: these are nothing but child's play when real evil rears its ugly head.

Zelda watches as the man bends the knee to her father, her nose pressed against the tempered glass. He doesn't mean it, not with the way he's stiff-backed and sneering. Zelda is young but she isn't stupid. She can hear the whispering of the Goddesses in her ear.

Evil. Doom. The End.

Destiny.

Foretold.

Do something.

When the man leaves the throne room and steps into her garden, he pauses. They meet gazes. He looks at Zelda as though she is a small fly under his boot. He's heard the rumors of course, just like everyone else. The frightful child who's constantly chased by the demons underneath her bed.

"Witch," says Ganondorf to her with no propriety.

Zelda can't find it within herself to even be offended. The only thing she expects from this man is how his hand will bring flames to Hyrule.

Instead, she holds her head high and says nothing. Only watches him with a gaze far too old and wise for one so lacking in years. Except that she doesn't feel young, she feels aged and ageless. Both and neither.

Witch and Princess.

He watches her for a moment longer and then loses interest. Says nothing else as he flips his cloak and saunters away.

And Zelda watches him back, her gaze calculating and severe. Impa says nothing, waiting for her to make the first move.

"Impa," she says, "tell the bird to find the boy. I do believe that it's time we meet."

In a flash, Impa is gone. Zelda is left with only her thoughts.

She is a witch, though, a fiery thing who works best when left to her devices. She listens to the whispers and pulls at the strings of fate like she's the one who alone weaves the tapestry of all that there is.

This is a game she's played before, in the ages of old.

What's another turn in the Goddesses' grand game?