Over his life(s), Ganondorf had seen exactly what the Goddess' chosen hero was capable of. Blessed with unnatural strength and endurance stolen from slain enemies, entire armies were incapable of standing against the hero. Any advantage his enemies held over him was moot before his cunning wit and tactics. All enemies fell before his blade - a scythe that reaped blood.
He refused to believe that those heroes had been mere Hylians. Only something greater than mortal could do such things.
"You're going to get yourself killed one day."
"'m not…" Link sniffed, and whimpered as Ganondorf tightened the bandages with a sharp tug and look.
"What did you think was going to happen? You were going to walk up to it, take the necklace, then waltz away?" Yes, the Goddess' chosen were surely blessed with amazing intellect and skill from birth...
Blue eyes refused to meet his own, "I had a weapon…"
What a load of crap.
"Yes, you had a twig. Not even a Deku stick, just a half-rotted branch you picked up off the ground."
"I thought it would be enough…It was just a stupid plant."
"A stupid plant that snapped your 'weapon' exactly like what it was; a twig."
"I just wanted to get the necklace back…" A necklace some friend of Link's wasn't even supposed to have, much less have been running around with in the woods. Ganondorf thought it was actually lucky the Deku Baba had stopped her; a group of bandits wouldn't have been so generous as to just scare her. But no, Link had to be a hero of all things and try and get the necklace back so her mother wouldn't have to know. Even lacking every other trait previous heroes held, he surely had their lack of self-preservation instincts.
And was that a fresh batch of tears peaking at the corner of Link's eyes? It certainly was, and Link flushed, indignant at his own weakness, and turned away, "I wouldn't have to use a stick if you'd just teach me how to use a sword."
...And there was the near-obsession with swordplay that Link had had since he could tell the difference between a rock and bread. Even the kitchen knives weren't safe and Ganondorf was forced to keep them under magical lock and key, "Children shouldn't have such a fascination for sharp pieces of metal that they're just as likely to eviscerate themselves with as the enemy."
"If you taught me…"
"You're not even eight yet. You are too young to even use the practice sword properly." Too young for anything that the wide and cruel world would inevitably have planned for him. Too young to start falling into the role the Goddess' had planned, too young to know how to kill, too young to be hurt…
Well, it was too late for that, Ganondorf thought with a rueful look at the bandages on the child's still-cubby arm. The bandages weren't really needed, not with the near-constant resonance their Triforce pieces shared with the close proximity that came with living together. A resonating that was pumping more and more magic through Link's veins with every day that slipped away like sand. He couldn't use it yet - didn't even know it was happening- but some day, some day soon…
Link was going to become terrifyingly powerful and nigh untouchable, what with the defensive turn his magic was taking from the daily grind of life.
Ganondorf was pulled out of his musings when Link did the same with his arm, clutching it to his chest and doing his best to coddle and nurse it. A sour look was thrown his way, and Ganondorf sighed and stood to his full height, necklace in hand. Link stood as well, but refused to look at his adopted father, and trudged a few steps behind.
Which made it especially surprising when, nearly at the village gate, Link did his best to lace his fingers with the Gerudo's own. Link still wouldn't look meet his eyes, but Ganondorf humored the fuming child clearly stewing in petty anger and self-pity and closed his hand around Link's.
Ganondorf should have known better.
Not a month later he caught Link and half a dozen other brats being taught by one of the village men basic sword techniques. There was nothing impressive about the moves themselves, they lack all fineness and key footwork, but a cold sort of rage built in Ganondorf, irrationally. To see Link with sword in hand - slashing and thrusting at dummies with technique that would surpass his teacher in a matter of days - was to see a nightmare. A nightmare that was destiny and meddling Goddess' and failure and suffering and pain.
Although he knew it always, it became clear then that while he could escape he role, Link could not. Would not, actively refused to and conspired against such plans. He was a hero who would save anyone who looked pathetic enough, and some part deep down in the child knew he'd need deadly skills to survive.
The Goddess' groomed their chosen well, after all.
Ganondorf didn't sleep that night, nor the night after. But he slept the third night, woke Link before dawn, and all but beat the child with the ill-fitting practice sword with all the compassion and mercy his own mentors had shown him.
Nearly two hours later, Link was limping something terrible. A nasty bruise was already forming on his leg and at least one more on his side must have made walking painful. Several dozen small scratches covered his body and there was no doubt they stung horribly. Not to mention the general ache that inevitably came with unfamiliar work that would persist for days after.
Ganondorf had never seen the boy smiling so brightly.
"You're the one who wanted sword lessons," Ganondorf said when the child stumbled and hissed sharply. Maybe he'd been a tad harsh on the boy for a first lesson, but the Gerudo regretted nothing. If Link learning how to swing a sword was inevitable, if the coming evil was inevitable, if a hero being needed was inevitable, then he'd make sure the blasted kingdom got the best hero they'd ever seen. And if that meant a painful childhood, so be it.
Besides, he was already healing. The rest of the walk back to the village wouldn't kill him.
Despite that, Ganondorf carried Link back the rest of the way, and even let the child nap until midday.
Ideas are considered.
