Author's Note: Hey folks! Here's the last chapter of the arc!
After this I'm taking another 6-8 week hiatus to work on the next arc, which I expect to have done early January '21. It's gonna be a big one-eight chapters at my current estimate.
He fell. Darkness wrapped him like a shroud, trailing slick tendrils over his face, his throat, clutching as he plummeted. Smoke and shadow wrapped around him, clutching like hands. A thousand voices screamed, crying his name. He brought his hands up over his ears to block them out.
And fell.
And fell.
And struck the ground with his left hip first, and he knew he was dreaming but it hurt , left him curled on himself and gasping as pain screamed its way up his side. Not fall-pain. Searing like a brand.
There were hands on him, pulling him upright, and a voice. One voice. Low, richly accented, speaking his native tongue.
"Open your eyes, boy. Yes, that's it, this way. The shadows will crush you if you linger too long— yes, there —"
And Ganondorf's eyes were open, and the hands holding his shoulders were the King's. The walls of the Colossus soared above him, bright glass murals shining in the fire-light. The King's eyes shone too, those eyes he knew as keenly as the ones in his own reflection. His mouth was downturned, war-wearied features creased in deep concern.
"I warned you to stay away," the King said. "You bear His mark, now that His servants have found you and claimed you."
"Why didn't you tell me he would come?" Ganondorf asked. The words burned against his lips.
"It would have done you no good. The Sword seeks out his Master, the place of a Blade is at its wielder's side," the King said.
"I don't want it," Ganondorf said quietly, and cringed. The words sounded childish even to him.
The King sighed and pulled them both to their feet. He was small , Ganondorf thought, half a head shorter, but bodies were immaterial here, and the King was mightier. More substantial. The world rippled around him. The King's hands were open, and the blue-violet focus rested in his palms. It rolled forward slightly, gleaming and opaque. The air shimmered, black scales curling in a rent in the world.
He was waking up.
"The Temple of Time," the King said, and pressed the focus into his hands. "You have seen the Gate, and you have the last piece. Go with them and open the doors, Son of Din. You will know the task when you see it."
The focus was real , as real as the pain, solid and skin-warm in his hands. Ganondorf opened his mouth to ask another question, but the fanged shadow uncurled further, maw gaping wide enough to swallow the world, and—
His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. His heart pounded in his chest, blood roaring in his ears, and he looked around frantically. Dark wooden walls, wooden ceiling— his eyes fixed on the plaster chinked between the beams, trying to to place it. Light from a fire on his right—
Ah. The trailhead lodge. Their arrival was vague in his memory, blurred almost beyond recollection. The trek back down the mountain was the same, a shiftless whirl of snow and voices— the last clear thing he remembered was the Chamber of Nayru's Flame.
The demon, the Sword , poised to strike Link down where he stood.
The power that had burned through him when he'd commanded Ghirahim to stop, pouring from him like a flash flood in a slot canyon. The way it had left him scoured and empty after. He shook his head, trying to focus on the room around him.
Link, somehow, had slept through his waking, and Ganondorf let himself breathe a quiet sigh of relief. The Hylian was still curled on his side, his breathing slow and steady, blankets wrapped around him; more blanket than Ganondorf thought he'd had when they'd gone to sleep. He shifted, going to place a hand on his other side to sit more upright, and brushed broadcloth with his fingers— broadcloth and a warm body underneath. He shifted himself more carefully, peering over his shoulder to find Zelda on his other side.
As he watched, she cracked an eyelid open, hazy green peering out at him from beneath deep brown lashes. She grumbled something under her breath in protest and reached up after him, patting at his chest with a hand before taking hold of the front of his kurta and pulling gently, as if to tug him back down into the bed.
"Good morning to you, too," he said.
There was a shuffle, and he jumped again, turning towards the rest of the room, his hand dropping automatically to where his scimitars would have rested on his hip. They weren't there, of course, and he grit his teeth to keep the ozone in his mouth.
A woman was seated at the small table, curled up in the rickety wooden chair closest to the fire and watching them with uncanny intensity. Ganondorf eyed her back warily. He'd met Sheikah before, of course— there was a small population of expatriates living in Parapa— but most of them were of the dark-haired, dark-eyed sort, not silver-haired with eyes like rubies. This one's hair was cropped short, like some of the Toruma wore theirs; less than a thumb's length on the top of her head and shaved nearly to the scalp on the sides and back. It only enhanced the sharpness of her face. A Sheikah eye, tattooed in crimson ink, rested on her brow.
Next to the rest of her looks, her clothing was shockingly neutral: an unornamented kimono dyed beige, with red at the collar. A deep blue obi belted it at the waist, and with her knees tucked up under her he could see she wore deep-blue leggings, shins reinforced with leather beneath it. She was tiny , he noticed, likely smaller than Link if she were standing.
"So, you finally decided to rejoin the world of the living," she said dryly.
"...And who are you supposed to be?" he asked. He could taste the lightning on his tongue.
"My name is Impa," the Sheikah said. "I serve the royal family of Hyrule."
Her eyes were locked on him, intent and crimson, belying the simplicity of her statement. Serve , he thought. It was common knowledge, the way Sheikah loyal to Hyrule served the royal family.
If it hadn't been so clearly Yiga who had slain his mother, he would have assumed it had been Sheikah under the orders of the King of Hyrule. But if she had been sent after them...
"... Ah ," he said. "You're here to take Zelda back."
Impa shrugged. "Those were the orders I was given by the King of Hyrule," she said.
"She won't," Zelda muttered. She still had a grip on his kurta, Ganondorf noted belatedly, and she tugged at him again, pulling herself a little more upright and pressing her face against his shoulder. "'M not gonna let her. We have places to be that aren't the Castle."
"Yeah," Link said blearily from his other side, and small hands fisted in the left sleeve of Ganondorf's kurta as Link sat himself upright. His pointed chin settled against his shoulder, just barely digging in. "We're supposed to be going to the Temple of Time."
Impa's brows creased sharply, furrowing the eye on her forehead. "The Temple— what for?"
"There was a mural in the last temple that matched something Zelda saw there ," Link said.
Zelda nodded, and sat herself more upright to rub the sleep from her eyes. "Not just that," she said. "I was... dreaming last night. I was standing in the temple ruins, in front of the statue of Hylia, and the sky was full of black clouds— horizon to horizon and rolling north across Hyrule, so big and so black they blotted out the sun— and there was a voice in my ear, telling me that if I did not seek 'the temple of my ancestresses', that demise would come upon Hyrule once more."
The word demise sent a shudder up Ganondorf's spine, and he bit his lip and stayed quiet. Impa's eyes flicked from her charge's face up to his.
"Nothing to say, Desert King?" she asked.
Ganondorf squinted at her. "How can you tell ?"
"You aren't exactly subtle with it," Impa replied. "I knew before the Princess told me who you were."
Ganondorf hummed and settled back, watching her intently. Impa held his gaze, her expression cool and detached, only the faintest quirk of her lips betraying irritation. He hissed a soft breath between his teeth.
"...I dreamed last night, as well," he said. "Not of the temple itself, but I believe it's where we need to go next."
Impa quirked a brow. "We?"
"Well, we aren't going without him," Link said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, and warmth coiled under Ganondorf's breastbone. He turned his head just enough to press a kiss to Link's brow.
Link leaned up to kiss him back, slinging an arm around Ganondorf's shoulders, and he let himself be pulled down into it, dropping a hand to cradle Link's jaw. Zelda grumbled something irritably on his other side and moved away— the bed creaked as she stood, but Link pulled him down into another kiss before he could turn to her.
There was another rustle behind him. "Link, where'd you put the Slate last night?" Zelda asked.
Link broke the kiss reluctantly, but shifted himself more into Ganondorf's lap to address her. "It should be under my coat, I think? In the travel case."
"Got it," Zelda replied. Another rustle, and then the faint hum of the Slate powering up. "Did you want a healing elixir? You were limping last night."
"I probably ought to," Link said. "The gatekeeper got me pretty good."
Ganondorf turned to look at Zelda just as the Slate flashed, and she tossed the elixir bottle to Link underhanded. He caught it easily, uncorked the cap, and took a swig, grimacing slightly.
"Dragmire?" Zelda said. Ganondorf tensed and met her gaze. She was still holding the Slate, but she'd folded her arms across her chest and eyed him up, her expression dubious. "You should have some of that elixir too. I don't know what that drop and the immersion in Malice did to you, even with your shield, but it can't have been good."
Ganondorf frowned, trying to recall what had happened. His hands on the tile, slipping, Zelda's crushing grip on his arms as she tried to pull him up. The Malice— blood-hot, slick and heavy on the side of his face and neck, the way it had wrapped around him as he fell. His cloak had hissed alarmingly, but—
It hadn't burned him like Zelda had said it would. Not in the slightest. The rest of it was a blur, dark and pulsing and warm , until burning gold had seared away the blackness and left him gasping on the floor. The only thing that had been left, then, was a bruised ache along his left side.
The wooden chair Impa was sitting in creaked softly as the Sheikah shifted her weight, jarring him back to the present. She was watching him intently, like a desert hawk locked on prey— as was Zelda.
"I...don't believe I sustained any injuries," Ganondorf said. " Maybe bruising on my ribs, but it doesn't hurt anymore."
That wasn't quite true. His side had burned when he'd woken, but that was quiet now, hardly an issue.
Link tugged gently at his kurta, drawing his attention, and when Ganondorf turned back towards him a warm, calloused hand cupped his face. "Hey," he said gently. "Even if it doesn't hurt, we should still probably take a look at it. Broken ribs aren't any fun."
"Trust me, I know," Ganondorf said, unable to keep from grinning wryly. "You're going to have to get out of my lap, darling. You're sitting on my kurta."
Link huffed at him, but slithered out of his lap anyway. The bed creaked as he slung his legs over the side and popped to his feet, bouncing lightly as if to test his ankle— which, by the way he was moving, was perfectly fine now. He held the elixir loosely by the neck of the bottle, cork in his other hand, ready to cap it again or hand it over.
There was no getting out of it now. Ganondorf sighed quietly and pulled his kurta off over his head, excruciatingly aware of the way Zelda and Impa watched him.
But it was neither of them who spoke, when the loose, undyed linen shirt he wore under his kurta came off as well. It was Link.
"Oh, fuck ," he said. "Dragmire, your ribs—"
Ganondorf looked down and froze.
Whorls of magenta and violet wrapped nearly the full expanse of his left side, vibrant against his skin as they spilled from just below his pectoral and across his ribs, down the line of his obliques. The lower end of them disappeared beneath the waistband of his sirwal, but he had a feeling that if he pulled them down to check they'd wrap across his iliac crest, down over the side of his hip. They almost seemed to pulse and move in the low, flickering firelight, but when he brushed his fingers over them experimentally, they were still under his hand. The skin beneath the marks was smooth and unbroken, not raised like he would have expected from scar tissue.
"What is that?" Impa demanded.
"I— this wasn't here before the temple," Ganondorf said, trying to keep the fear out of his tone. He ran his hand over the marks again, pressing more firmly.
No pain. Nothing. Without looking, he couldn't even tell where the marks lay — like years-old tattoos on older vai— but he'd never considered putting himself under the needle before. He ran his hand over it again, this time digging in with his fingers—
Link grabbed his wrist before he could break the skin, stopping him in his tracks.
"They look like Malice burns," Zelda said. When he looked up, she was fumbling with the Slate again, her face awash in blue light. "Hold on, there's a pictogram of my grandfather's burns in here somewhere …"
She paused a few moments later, then turned the Slate to face him, displaying a pictogram of a Hylian man on the screen. He looked uncomfortably like Link, Ganondorf thought— small-framed, with a wiry build, and a thick shock of golden hair— but the focus of the image was clearly on the marks across the man's skin. The Malice burns looked different on fair skin than they did on dark, but the patterns were similar, loose loops and whorls of magenta. The difference, as far as he could tell, was that the marks Zelda's grandfather bore seemed more purposeful , clustered along lines of heavy, white scar tissue, the skin beneath the markings raised.
"Not quite the same," Ganondorf said, before he could stop himself. "His look like burns , mine are just…"
He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Zelda frowned and reached out with the hand not holding the Slate, and Ganondorf gasped as her cool fingers trailed over his ribs. They paused at the scored skin where he'd dug his nails in, then travelled on down his side before she pulled away. The furrow between her brows had deepened.
"You're right," she said. "These aren't burn scars— and there's no way the Malice would have gotten between your skin and the chemise without damaging it."
"The mark of the Calamity," Impa said from behind her. Zelda stiffened, green eyes going wide. Ice trailed down Ganondorf's spine.
"What?" Link said.
Impa's chair groaned as she got to her feet, rising to her full height— though it wasn't much, she stood half a head shorter than Link— and making her way towards the bed. Ganondorf tensed, tasting ozone and copper on the back of his tongue.
"Legend has it that, a long time ago, the Calamity once walked abroad in the skin of a Gerudo man," Impa said. Her voice was quiet, controlled, and her eyes were like cut glass. "Perhaps it has chosen to come in that shape once again."
Ganondorf curled his lip at her. "Hylian propaganda ," he snapped. "Your masters used that filthy fucking lie to force my people into a millennium of slavery and death , all for refusing to kneel to the Hylian crown."
"Is that so, Ganon ?" Impa snapped back.
"That's not my name," Ganondorf growled. He could feel the electricity crackling through his hair, starting at the roots and snapping down the strands.
"The princess tells me that's what the demon you three met in the temple called you," Impa replied. She pushed past Link, who let her go, his face pale with shock.
"It's Ganondorf ," he hissed between grit teeth.
Zelda dropped the Slate with a clatter. Ganondorf flinched from it, and Impa jolted, snapped out of her aggressive posture by the sound.
"...You knew," Link said quietly, his voice breaking.
"Why didn't you say something?" Zelda asked. Her brows had furrowed again— but not in anger. In concern .
"I…" Ganondorf started. His stomach turned over, his throat gone tight. He clenched his fists in the fabric of his linen shirt, wanting to pull it back on. To cover the marks on his ribs. "I didn't know about the Calamity ," he forced out at last. "But what did you want me to say ? That, by our tradition, the King isn't presented by his new name until he's worn the Crown a month? That your people have conflated my traditional name with your apocalypse monster?" He swallowed, hard. "...That I was afraid you, Zelda , would see it as a declaration of war?"
"... Oh ," Zelda said softly. She lowered her gaze, and, after a moment's hesitation, stooped to retrieve the Slate, holding it in her hands like she was afraid it would shatter if she gripped too tightly.
There was a moment of strained silence. Ganondorf's grip on his shirt tightened.
"Fuck it," Link said decisively, shattering the silence like glass. He shoved the cork back into the top of the elixir bottle and snatched the Slate back, magicking it away. "Fuck this . We're sitting here getting assed up over whether or not Dragmire— Ganondorf — our friend is the Calamity when he hasn't even done anything— how stupid is that ?"
"And what do you suggest, hero ?" Impa snapped back, rounding on him. "It's your duty to slay the Calamity—"
Ganondorf flinched at that, and Link stepped firmly in between him and Impa. His shoulders had gone tight, hands in fists.
"He's not the Calamity, and I won't let him be," Link said. "We're going to the Temple of Time, like Zelda said before all this shit came out. Whatever's waiting there will have the answers to fix this. It has to."
Zelda took a deep breath and turned, standing shoulder to shoulder with Link. Impa's eyes widened as they darted to her charge's face. "Link's right," Zelda said. "That demon from the temple— Ghirahim— could be tracking us down right now, and if...if Ganondorf is the Calamity, if we fight, that means Ghirahim could take him, and we can't take that risk." She raised her chin slightly. "I'm not going back to the Castle, Impa. And we aren't going to hurt a friend over something like this."
Something warm blossomed under Ganondorf's sternum. The two of them stood like a wall, strong-shouldered and resolute. Hands clasped.
Impa sighed, and the tension in her shoulders went slack. She reached up, running a hand through the close-cropped hair on the top of her head, then lowered her hand back to her side and met Zelda's gaze.
"Your Highness," she said quietly. "I believe this course of action you've chosen may prove incredibly foolhardy. But if this is the course you wish to take—"
"It is," Zelda said.
"Then I will stand beside you every step of the way," Impa said.
Zelda's shoulders tensed, lines of muscle drawn tight. "If this is because you think I'm being stupid, or you're going to be reporting back to my father the whole time—"
"This isn't about your father, or whether I think you're being stupid," Impa said, and her hands fisted in the sleeves of her kimono— a gesture Ganondorf recognized from Zelda herself. "Your father does not bear the Blood of Hylia, and at this point his wishes are immaterial. But I will not abandon my charge, my divine service to the Blood of the Goddess, because I believe her actions are foolish, not while demons and the Yiga roam abroad and I may serve as a protector, as I was meant to."
Zelda exhaled shakily, and part of Ganondorf wanted to reach out and steady her. Link's hand tightened, squeezing hers gently.
She seemed to take strength from that, drawing in a low breath before saying, "Then, as long as you don't try to stop us, you're...more than welcome to accompany us."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Impa said quietly.
Zelda shook her head and let go of Link's hand. "No, thank you , for hearing us out."
There was another pause, and Ganondorf shifted uncomfortably, then pulled his linen shirt back on over his head. There was a flurry of motion, and when he poked his head out of the opening at the neck the other three had turned to face him, wearing similar startled expressions.
"I hate to interrupt," Ganondorf said, and pulled his hair out from under the shirt. He tugged it forward over his shoulder, combing through it with his fingers. "But if we're going to make for the Temple of Time before Ghirahim catches up to us, we're going to need a plan."
"Right," Zelda said, her tone grateful. "It's a full two-day ride from here, by the shortest route— mostly retracing our path here , since the site is located on the Great Plateau—"
"You're joking ," Ganondorf said. His stomach dropped, hard.
"Nope," Link said. He opened the Slate again, pulling up the map screen and panning out, then turned it towards Ganondorf and tapped a point far to the southeast of their position. "Here, on the north side of the Plateau."
"And that will make it a pain to access undetected," Zelda said. She stooped and grabbed up one of her boots from its place near the fire, stuck a hand down to feel the inside and nodded. "The only access to the Plateau itself, by foot at least, is a single reconstructed stairway on the north face near the old gatepost ruins, and it's held by a garrison from Katsuto at the behest of the crown. Which means we'll need to find some way to get past them—"
"There are other ways to access the Plateau, Your Highness," Impa said. "We Sheikah know a route up the northeast face, adjoining the ruins of the eastern abbey."
" Brilliant ," Zelda said, her face lighting up again. "Impa, will you please—"
"Of course," Impa said.
"Great!" Link said brightly. The bed jounced as he sat down beside Ganondorf and grabbed his own boots, not even bothering to check them for dampness before shoving his feet back inside. "So, I think our best course of action right now is going to be to head back to Dronoc's Pass and take the travel gate back to Rito Village. We'll return our rentals, touch base with Medli and Komali if we can, and then get our horses from the stable and go."
"That sounds reasonable," Zelda said. "Dra— Ganondorf ?"
"I have no objections," Ganondorf said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth at her stumble. Somehow, that was worse than her using the wrong name. He pulled his hair up instead, tying it up in a neat bun to distract himself.
Zelda nodded sharply. "If we can make it to the stable by midday, we should be able to make Tanagar Canyon before nightfall."
"Then we should be on our way as quickly as possible," Impa said. "The storm has gone quiet for now, and the sooner we reach the shrine the better off we will be."
Ganondorf nodded his agreement and pulled on his kurta, then stooped to pick up his boots. He didn't remember putting them under the bed the night before, but they must have gotten kicked under there at some point. The exteriors were still slightly damp from their trek, but it didn't matter. The insides were still dry. He pulled them on, shrugged back into the Rito-down coat and fastened it closed, and buckled his sword-belt at his waist.
He already missed his cloak, he decided, and reached over the foot of the bed to grab his pack and pull it open, rummaging through for the black scarf he'd packed for the journey. He hadn't expected it to get warm enough to really need it instead of his cloak, but Nabooru had pressed it insistently into his hands while he'd packed, and he was more than grateful for it now. He folded the edge neatly and draped it over his head, tucking and folding the ends in securely, and pinned it in place with his ruby brooch.
Then he stood, closing his pack again and pulling it up onto his back, and straightened to look around the little cabin. Zelda was still fiddling with the fasteners on her coat. Link was perched on the edge of the bed, tightening the laces on his boots. Impa was already waiting by the door, her expression a study in neutrality. Her gaze met his a moment, then slid off, like water on glass. He had the distinct impression that she didn't like him— but it was a different sort of dislike than Zelda had presented him with when they'd first met. Zelda had been up in his face, confrontational.
Impa, he thought, would sooner slip away from direct conflict and hit him later than face him head-on. He would have to keep an eye on her, then.
Link popped to his feet, slinging his pack up onto his back with practiced ease. "Are we all ready?" he asked.
"Of course," Ganondorf said. Zelda nodded, straightening her own pack.
Impa opened the door and slipped out, her cream-colored kimono almost vanishing her against the new-fallen snow outside. The drifts were deeper than Ganondorf thought they had been even the night before, the tallest among them coming nearly to his hip. The sky was dark and heavy, especially to the north, clouds blotting out the sun's ascent in the eastern sky. Ganondorf shivered as he emerged, already missing the extra shield of his cloak. His boots crunched in the layer of windblown snow covering the path.
They took the trail single-file at a fast walk, and not a word was spoken until they made the turn north again at the crossroads to Dronoc's Pass, when the blue lights of the shrine began to peek over the ridge. It felt longer than it had two days before, and more uncomfortable for the quiet— without even the sound of birds or wildlife in the trees to break it. The oncoming storm hung oppressively in the air.
It was only when their boots came down on solid stone at the top of the ridge that Impa broke the silence.
"Link, you and I will travel back to Rito Village first," she said. Her tone brooked no argument.
Link's face tightened a little, but he acquiesced, joining her on the shrine's travel gate and pulling out the Slate. He tapped something on the screen, and the two of them vanished in a burst of light, leaving Ganondorf and Zelda on their own.
"...So," Zelda said, after a moment. "How long did you know? That you were Ganondorf , that is."
"Four weeks, now," Ganondorf said, and prodded at a snowdrift with the toe of his boot. "Three days after...after my mother passed, the Rova initiated me and sent me into the holy places under the Temple of the Triune to find my path. They...after the death of a chieftain, her crown is ritually purified, and returned to its place in the vaults, where the new chieftain-to-be is not permitted until their initiation." He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. "It's...a proving, of sorts. The will of the goddesses guides the new chieftain to either the Earth Crown or the War Crown, and the one they find determines their future— chieftain or King."
"And which one did you find?" Zelda asked, her head tilting.
Ganondorf snorted. "Which one do you think? Only a King wears the War Crown."
"Did you know beforehand?" Her eyes were intent.
"That I would come out a King?"
"That you were a man."
Ganondorf laughed outright at that one.
Zelda shot him an offended look. "I was serious," she said. "Did you know you were supposed to be a man before you became the king?"
"Does anyone know what they're meant to be?" Ganondorf asked.
Zelda sighed, and kicked at a snowdrift herself. "...I knew I was meant to destroy the Calamity before I knew I could be anything else," she said. "My fate's been laid out for me since the moment I was born."
Ganondorf tilted his head thoughtfully. "That seems like a cruel burden to place on a young girl," he said. "It seems almost unfair for me to say I didn't know I would be King until the War Crown called out to me, by comparison. My mother raised me like any other daughter of the Gerudo."
"I can't say I'm not jealous," Zelda said. She pulled her braid forward over her shoulder, playing with the end of it. "But...I also can't say it seems like it's been easy to learn you had a destiny that was kept from you."
"It certainly hasn't been," Ganondorf said. "...Why did you ask if I knew I was supposed to be a man?"
"Curiosity," Zelda said. "I always felt that if I hadn't known what I was meant to be, I would have felt it somehow. That I was different. And...I wanted to know if you felt the same way."
Ganondorf shrugged at that. "Honestly? I don't feel any different now , as Ganondorf, than I did before the temple when I was still Dragmire, and still a girl." He paused, thoughtfully, and studied the shape of the shrine. "...Maybe I fit a little better in my own skin now. The thought of being Dragmire again chafes these days."
"Then I won't use it anymore," Zelda said, and when he turned to look at her she met his gaze directly. The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile. "...Ganondorf."
"Thank you," he said.
The travel gate lit up blue, and a moment later emitted a burst of azure sparks that coalesced into Link's shape, dropping him out of the air to land lightly on the gate.
"Where were you?" Zelda asked.
"Impa wanted to case, like, all of Rito Village," Link said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, she wanted me to come back and get Zelda first, and then—" he hesitated a moment, meeting Ganondorf's eyes. "...Gan? Is that alright?"
Ganondorf's heart leapt.
"Yes," he said. "That's alright."
Zelda snorted, hopping up onto the gate and hooking her arm through Link's. "Sorry to break this up, lovebirds," she said, and flashed Ganondorf a grin. "Mind if I steal your beau a minute?"
"As long as you return him in one piece," Ganondorf said, grinning back.
Zelda's smile widened, and Link laughed as he pulled the Slate from its case and tapped the screen again. The sound faded out as he and Zelda went up in streamers of blue light, leaving Ganondorf on his own in the pass. Flakes of white whirled down to take their place. Ganondorf tilted his face up to the heavens, watching the clouds roll down off the peaks. The silence was heavier with Zelda gone, and something about the weight of it in the air unnerved him.
It felt as if he were being watched.
The gate lit blue a moment later, and Ganondorf heaved a sigh of relief as Link dropped out of the air again, picking his way up to the shrine to join him. Link flashed him a smile and caught hold of the front of Ganondorf's coat, pulling down as he lifted himself up onto his toes. Ganondorf chuckled and bent to kiss him, cupping the nape of Link's neck to angle him more easily into it.
"How are you holding up?" Link asked gently.
"...I'm alright, I think," Ganondorf said. "Zelda and I had a talk, and I think we're alright now."
Link hummed. "Good to hear. Shame Impa doesn't like you, though."
"I could tell," Ganondorf said, grimacing.
"No, I mean…" Link started, then paused, his brow furrowing. "...If she doesn't like you, she's not going to let you close to Zelda again after that. I think she thinks—"
"What, that I'll prove to be evil after all, and attempt to murder her charge?" Ganondorf said.
Link winced. "...Yeah, that's about the shape of it."
Ganondorf rolled his eyes. "Then I guess we'll just have to prove her wrong, won't we?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Link said, and pulled him down for a second kiss. Ganondorf let him, closing his eyes against it this time.
They'd scarcely broken the kiss when Ganondorf felt the air rush up around them, cool air and light, and his boots left the ground of the gate. The only thing solid against him was Link, holding tightly to his upper arms, their brows still resting together as the magic pulsed around them. He could feel the flow of it around him, through him, and it was no less jarring than it had been the first time they'd travelled from one shrine to another.
And then his boots touched down on another gate, and much warmer air rushed in around him. Ganondorf opened his eyes, blinking in the sudden sunlight of Totori Village, and let go of Link to begin unbuttoning his coat against the springtime warmth. Link laughed and stole a third kiss, then released him, stepping off the shrine gate and heading towards the boardwalk again, where Zelda and Impa were waiting. The Sheikah's ruby eyes narrowed again suspiciously, and Ganondorf shot her a dirty look in return.
"Gross," Zelda said, and jabbed Link playfully in the arm as soon as he was in reach.
"Gross to you, too," Link retorted, jabbing her back.
Impa rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. "If the three of you have unfinished business here, handle it now. We don't have any time to lose."
"Right," Zelda said. She slung her pack down off her shoulders and pulled her rented trousers out of it, handing them off to Link. "You two go return our gear. I'll let Medli know what we found— and that she absolutely shouldn't go up there until we're well out of the area."
"Don't want her running into a demon, after all," Ganondorf said wryly.
Zelda nodded, then slipped past him, hurrying higher up the stairs towards the historians' home. Link hooked an arm through Ganondorf's as she did, pulling him close, and flashed him a reassuring smile.
"Come on, let's go turn these things back in," he said.
They made their way back down the staircases, circling the central pillar until the brown curtains of the Brazen Beak came back into view, and paused outside the door. Ganondorf pulled the trousers out of his pack, while Link shucked his coat and retrieved his cloak instead, fastening it loosely about his shoulders before they went inside.
The interior of the shop was brighter than it had been before— the eastern curtains had been rolled up, taking in the warmth of the sunlight. The Rito shopkeep was at the back of the room when they came in, going through the bolts of cloth on the shelves at the back, but they looked up at the sound of boots on the floor.
"Welcome back," they said, taking a fluttery hop from the stool they were perched on and weaving their way back towards the front. "Was your trip to Hebra a success?"
"It was certainly something," Ganondorf said, placing his trousers on the counter as the Rito made their way up behind it, flipping through their ledger.
"I've never seen anything like it, I'll tell you that," Link said, dropping his parka and trousers beside Ganondorf's and setting Zelda's next to them. "It's a hell of a place."
"That it is," the Rito said. "Hope you three managed to stay out of that blizzard—" they glanced up, eyes widening. "—Where is your third, by the way?"
"Saying goodbye to some friends," Ganondorf said easily. Link shot him a sideways look. "Who knows when we'll be this way again."
The Rito bobbed their head in response, picking up the returned trousers and parka. "Indeed. Safe travels, to the lot of you."
"Thanks," Link said. "We'll need it."
The shopkeep turned, and Link reached down and took Ganondorf's hand as they made their way back out of the shop into the sunlight.
The trek down the endless stairs felt like it took an eternity, but it was one Ganondorf didn't mind. Link's hand was warm in his, and the sunshine warmed him through to the core. It was refreshing, he thought, after Hebra's chill, burning away the lingering ice and anxiety.
It was nearly enough to make him forget the marks on his left side.
Somehow, impossibly, both Impa and Zelda had beaten them to the bottom of the stairs. The pair of them stood under the arch at the foot of the stone pillar, heads bowed over a sheet of thin, yellowish paper and speaking together quietly. They both looked up when Ganondorf and Link reached the bottom, and while Zelda's expression brightened, Impa's scowl only darkened, drawing a deeper furrow between her silver brows.
"There you are," Impa said. "The path to the stable is clear, but we should hurry."
"Why?" Link asked. His grip on Ganondorf's hand tightened.
"Bad news from Hyrule," Zelda said. She snagged Link's other arm as they reached the arch, pulling them down the trail towards the bridges.
"We just received a report from the Sheikah guardpost on Hyrule Ridge," Impa said. "Evidently there was a skirmish between a group of our agents stationed near the Seres Scablands and a trio of Yiga footsoldiers. One of them was killed during the conflict, but the other two escaped, heading west towards the Tanagar Canyon. I have reason to suspect they intend to head us off before we can reenter Hyrulean territory."
"We're going to have to ride fast, then," Link said.
"Not just that," Impa said. "Once we're on the road, we cannot stop at any stables between here and the Great Plateau. If the Yiga intend to ambush us, they will know your descriptors, and they will ask after you if we stop somewhere."
"Rough camping," Zelda said, her voice totally flat. "Delightful."
"As long as it doesn't rain, I think we should be alright," Ganondorf said.
Zelda winced. "Don't say that, or it will ," she said. "Impa, how far should we aim for today?"
"As far as we can," Impa replied. "There are decent sites to pitch camp near the fork in the road, past the scablands heading east, and enough cover that the Yiga may miss us if we cover our tracks."
They'd crossed the first two bridges leading back across Lake Totori by that point, and the bulk of the second island blocked the north wind cutting across the lake as they turned south, across the bridge to the third and final island. The horse-head of the stable was coming into view on the mainland, poking its ears just above the copse of trees around it, and Zelda picked up her pace, tugging at Link's arm to hurry him along.
They crossed the final bridge a minute later, making the short trek up the slope and through the trees into the stable yard. The space was exactly as it had been the last time Ganondorf had stood there, and he paused, taking it all in. Zelda released Link's arm and made a beeline for the stable's main counter, with Impa hot on her tail, leaving him and Link to wait in the clearing.
"...Well, that's not exactly reassuring," Link said quietly.
"Is it possible to recognize a Yiga spy on the road?" Ganondorf asked. His stomach had begun tying itself in knots when Impa mentioned them, and he thumbed the hilts of his scimitars for reassurance.
"I...don't know," Link said. "There's...a lot I don't know about them. But I think we should be okay with Impa along. Yiga are just...Sheikah who went bad, so a Sheikah can catch them at their tricks and counter them."
Ganondorf grit his teeth. That didn't sound especially reassuring to him, particularly given Impa's dislike of him, but it was all they had, really.
He set the thought aside as Zelda and Impa vanished around the corner of the stable, then emerged leading the horses behind them— his Zharu, Zelda's Mutoh, Link's Epona, and a surprisingly ordinary-looking dun mare with dappled haunches for Impa. Zelda handed him Zharu's reins, and the next several minutes were spent checking over tack and tightening girth straps before he finally swung himself up into the saddle.
He was the last to do so, he noted, slower than the other three, who were already mounted.
"...Well, shall we?" he asked.
"Whenever you're ready," Link replied.
Ganondorf squeezed Zharu's barrel gently in response, urging the horse into a walk, and the others wheeled about as they set off towards the east.