"Take him to Arbiter's Grounds," the King of Hyrule ordered. "I will not make another mistake by keeping you near my family, or the Triforce."
Ganondorf was too preoccupied ignoring the pain to recognize how defeated he was. Still, he looked to the future, for the next opportunity. What about Dora? Her duty bound her to him. Could she escape in time? He had no doubts, but what could she do? It was clear that the King of Hyrule did not want to take any more risks. Arbiter's Grounds was home to convicts and the staff that maintained the prison. Some villains had lived out there lives there, he was going to meet the end of his. Atop the tower was the gathering place of the sages, where they dealt justice and their power the strongest.
Dora's fight with the knights left her weary, so she rested after her wrists were strapped to the chains on the wall. Escaping from her prison was the least difficult task that she faced. Rescuing Ganondorf was the true obstacle. There was no doubt that the Gerudo would find her missing, send a scout to investigate the situation, and then mount a full attack. There was no time to wait for them. It would be midday before the Gerudo arrived. The guards whispered that Ganondorf's death sentence would be carried out immediately upon reaching Arbiter's Grounds deep within the desert.
She would have to do it herself, and that was just fine with her.
The guard switch happened almost flawlessly, but in the moment that there were no eyes on her, she used the only pin in her hair to expertly unlock the chains that bound her. The lock on the door was more complicated, required more concentration, thus taking much more time to pick. There was one guard specifically placed on the outside of her cell to watch her. What a mistake, she chuckled on the inside. She silently reached through the crisscrossed bars, put a hand over his mouth, and yanked his head back to the left with such force and swiftness his neck snapped. Quickly, she went to work on the door. It clicked and she swung it open. She grabbed her weapons and was gone before anyone else came. It would not be long before they discovered her missing.
Morning quickly approached. The shadows cast by the moon were giving way to the light of the sun. Dora rushed to leave the castle's grounds, using the freshly cleaned path and sneaking out through the front gate just freshly opened and unguarded before the morning deliveries of food and other supplies. She climbed the nearest building to the rooftop, and hastily moved from roof to roof until she exited through the west gate to claim her horse. Her heart raced, not from exhaustion, but fear and panic. She needed to move fast, but she was not moving fast enough. She could not push her horse, or risk not making it at all, and so kept at a steady gallop. Finally, in the distance she could see a transport wagon, and she slowed to stay out of sight.
The wagon followed the main path which diverted any travelers from the fortress of the Gerudo thieves. It was an hour long journey and if she were anyone else the desert heat and blistering sand would have turned her away. Dora was practically immune to these weaknesses and greeted the desert as her home. The building that she followed the wagon to was unfamiliar to her, but not unknown. It was the prison that she heard many tales about from the Gerudo, escaped convicts and rapists, but never saw it for herself. Yet, there she was, about to break in.
The trip to Arbiter's Grounds allowed Ganondorf much time to reflect, once he was able to push the constant aching pain out of his mind. The only thought running through his head were the events from less than an hour ago. A loyal servant was expected to, of course, die for their King, but take his place? For what little good it did, it was an unexpected gesture. What about Dora's admittance of love? In front of all those people? Was it all just some desperate plea to make them show mercy? How could anyone execute the man that a woman loved? When you were Ganondorf, the King of Thieves, the most ruthless man in all of Hyrule, no one would bat an eye. He smirked at that accomplishment. Despite having all of those people hate you, was it possible to have one that loved you?
It was a strange concept. Had it developed because Dora lacked any parent? Because she was rejected by all others? Was it not because of his favoritism that the Gerudo continued to alienate her? He gave Dora her place amongst the Gerudo, but she had also more than earned it. He realized that his act of choosing her to train to be his second in command also gave her life meaning and purpose. He had no doubt been cruel to her in the beginning, relentlessly toning her body as she grew, and painfully honing her skills to perfection.
Discipline was necessary, especially with the wild spirit contained within her. That was her true challenge. She feared him though, and grew to respect that fear, thus learning to tame and control it. One day, during their ritual spar, through understanding her fiery spirit, she was able to finally hit him. That day she shed the scared little girl and embraced a strong, confident woman, capable of any task placed before her. That was when he gifted the sword to her that she used to that day.
It was also the day his intent began to change. Regular practice was important or else one may lose what skills they mastered, but it was not about that anymore. He began to lust for her, but to have her completely meant to lose her as a capable future lieutenant. So, he settled for others. The longer he avoided it, the more he needed her, and eventually that fire inside Dora became an obsession almost as powerful as the Triforce itself. He was too blind to see that she suffered as well. Could what she felt be the same as the longing that burned within? Weakness, he mocked himself. Or could the embers of their relationship be the beginning of a powerful partnership? By nature, he was an opportunist, so he would leave that door open if he needed it to serve his purpose.
The spiritual bindings of light kept Ganondorf at bay enough that the guards could guide him to the top of the tower without worry. They took extra precautions anyway. In front and behind him were two guards with swords constantly pointed at him. To run was not in his nature, only destruction, and the anger at being in such a pitiful situation was giving him the strength he needed to obliterate the sages. He just needed the opportunity to do so.
Dora dismounted her horse and sent him home. It was cruel to ask him to stay in the desert without water. He could serve as a message to the Gerudo to come for her, because she would need the rescue if she failed. Looking at the massive dungeon she knew infiltration would be impossible, so she would need a disguise. To her advantage, the sand in the whirlwinds made visibility poor, but she was accustomed to that. Around the building were several layers of guards, all marching clockwise in a staggered pattern. With patience, and good time, she could shoot the one on the outmost layer with an arrow without being caught. The armor would be a baggy fit, but it was only temporary. Dora settled herself behind a rock where she was protected from the wind and sand. She set with her bow and arrow ready, constantly scanning the other guards. When her target was finally near her, the wind calmed just enough to aim, and so she fired. Whether or not she made her mark against the newly building wind, she rushed forward. Under the cover of the sand she found him, only severely wounded since the arrow grazed his neck. She turned him over, wrapped her hands around his throat, and squeezed as she dragged him away. He fought to free himself from her grasp, but as she hid behind the rock, his body went limp. Quickly, she threw his armor on over hers, including the face mask to protect against the sand, and made it back in line so the other guards were unaware of the switch.
Following their pattern led her toward the door more slowly than she would have liked. When she was close enough she leapt inside. The stairs spiraled dizzyingly upward, and she climbed with as little haste as she could manage.
Panic gripped her, and her pace quickened with her heartbeat. She feared she would be too late. As she reached the top, the guards and staff became less and less, so she began to tear off the armor. First the helmet, the shoulders, the heavy tunic, the metal legs, and finally the boots, all of it clanging as she discarded it up the steps and on the floor just before the door to the roof. Dora barged through it.