The next few weeks for Ganondorf were full of questioning what his fate was to be, mixed with only a few visits from that brat about trivial things. Said young man had only served to become slightly less annoying. He eventually started letting the brat stay for longer periods of time. The visits at least provided some company and, as much as he hated to admit it, the Gerudo had become accustomed to the young Hylian's regular presence.

One night when the young Hero had come in to sit and talk as usual, he had looked rather notably irked about something if not a bit aged, and Ganondorf could see the disdain for the royal life in Link's eyes. This elicited a smirk from the older man. "Too much work living like a king?" He knew exactly the kind of expectations put on a young king or king-to-be, and so it was more rhetorical than anything.

Link frowned and gave an exasperated nod. He looked rather angrier than normal. "Yes. I feel…too damn occupied." It was the first time Ganondorf had ever heard him curse, and it didn't suit the young man very well. The Hylian shook his head. "Anyhow, I am here to discuss neither political nor personal matters." The mention piqued Ganondorf's interest, but he decided against inquiry.

"I wanted to invite you to our autumn feast. I know that you have been cooped up in here for awhile now and I feel it's important for you to be there."

Ganondorf shook his head. "Of course, but I have only peasant's clothing as of now. I must attain proper attire, first." He was sure the young man knew exactly what he was asking.

Link thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I can't promise that I'll bring you what's best."

"So long as it's decent and fitting, I have no qualms."

With that short exchange over, Link bid him farewell and left him to his own devices.

Link sat on the edge of the massive bed in the royal chambers, already down to nothing but a plain white tunic, hair down and looking rather messy. He looked across the chamber at Sheik, who was doing something with his face.

Removing the second of a pair of delicate blue contact lenses, the ruler sighed. Even after these 18 long years, it was still difficult to make himself play pretend. However, for the sake of his late father, he upheld his obligation to make the people happy and give them someone to believe in.

Link scooted under the comforter, curling up on his side. "My king, do you feel that I've made a mistake by inviting him to the feast?"

Sheik walked over and sat down, removing the obnoxiously large triforce-shaped earrings from his ears and putting them down on his bedside table. "Dear, you must make that decision for yourself. It is, after all, one of Farore's miracles that we even have enough food left for this. And besides," he laid down on top of the comforter. "Don't refer to me as your king; you are to assume that title soon." He gave a gentle smile.

The young Hylian gave a huff. "Why can't you just tell the truth and not have to pretend anymore?" Sheik couldn't see his face but he could tell the boy was probably pouting.

"The people have placed all their hope in the princess. If I tell them that she is a fraud, a lie, that they aren't even ruled by a pure-blooded Hylian," he paused to scoot under the comforter. "How would the people feel?"

"After all," Sheik continued, "We've even more secrets that they're sure to discover soon enough," he scooted closer, nuzzling his face into the back of Link's neck, which caused the other to squirm but eventually settle, face redder than fire.

Sheik took a deep breath. "And besides, lies… are important." He could feel his stomach churn with the sudden downturn in direction of his thoughts. "The people believe that your captive has amnesia, else there could be a mass hysteria and even revolt over his survival."

Link frowned. Life shouldn't be full of lies for the sake of comfort. Wasn't the truth important at all? "The people are so selfish." He sighed yet again.

Sheik shook his head. As full of childlike wonder the young hero could be, he supposed the only drawback had to be his stubbornness about the way society should be. Such was the way of a pure heart; untouched by the defeat brought on by cynicism.

At the beginning of their journey together just over two years ago, the two had shared a muffled intrigue at best. Sheik had felt bound by his duty to keep himself guarded. It had been that innocent admiration found so often in Link that had catalyzed their relationship.

The Sheikah could remember each and every one of their painfully scarce meetings in vivid detail— his mind seemed to hinge on certain things obsessively like that— and he couldn't find it in himself to regret a single one. At first, Sheik had been very afraid that the hero might not accept or understand the way he behaved and advanced, or that he could not come to accept the ideas behind Sheik's double life.

It was at the reveal of his false identity, not so long ago, that he could remember being more afraid than he'd ever been. The Sheikah, as young warriors, were trained not to fear even the blackest shadows. His mother had taught him that. So the fear was almost overwhelming to somebody who'd barely experienced it.

That dark evening, the approach on Ganondorf's stronghold had neared its end. Better now than never, as Sheik always figured, so he took a shot in the dark. And so dark it was. The sky over most of Hyrule had been cast over with dark clouds. Rain poured down as though it were the tears of the goddesses themselves, weeping for want of a just and pure world.

Not long after Sheik had caught Link's attention once again, he interrupted their usual small-talk and gave a deep sigh. "There are things…I want to tell you." Another spiel about the History of Hyrule followed, of course listened to with sincere eagerness. "And the other, who holds the Triforce of Wisdom…is the Seventh Sage, who is destined to be the leader of them all…" his voice cracked as he raised his hand in front of himself and felt his magic envelop him. "It is I." his head dropped.

As simple as he could be, it was then that Link realized Sheik had been the one to give him his prophecy, his quest, his objective. He was both the one who entrusted him with the royal treasure and his life. It had been Sheik who wore a façade for the sake of his people. And before Link could profess his unyielding acceptance of his best friend's life choices, just like that…Sheik was gone. Snatched away.

A shining treasure enveloped in dark clouds, pursued by the light.

Sheik was abruptly pushed from his memories by that thought. Another prophecy, certainly urgent in nature, he was sure. But he figured that as long as Link was involved, he was safe. If the clouds represented danger, as always was the case, then the light was what would part them.

Link had been busy frowning at the day's newsprint, now sitting up in the bed, no doubt angry about some kind of tiny proletariat rights group, bent on the fall of the monarchy, that had resurfaced with the fall of Ganon's reign. He looked up from the newspaper, mouth open to say something, but upon seeing that Sheik was watching him with genuine concern, his expression softened a little. "I supposed some people just need a little work." He yawned. "The fight doesn't always end cleanly, I guess."

Sheik smiled, sure that the young hero would eventually learn that not everyone who was not evil could be good.

Not everyone who wasn't evil turned out to be inherently good. Just like not everyone who did bad things was inherently evil. Because evil people didn't have a conscience that plagued them with nightmares, right?

Ganondorf struggled to remove the strong grip he could feel pushing him to the ground, but it was to no avail. Then, suddenly, out of the darkness, the glint of a long steel blade rushed toward his face. The collision in the center of his forehead brought on some of the most excruciating pain he'd ever suffered. He first heard the gem in the middle of his circlet shatter, then nothing else.

And then the sensation of cold metal splitting his skin and breaking bone pushed into him. It all dragged on for hours and hours as the feeling of the sword pushing into his brain made him want to cry out like a small child. \And so he did.

For the first time in over twenty years, he woke up sputtering and screaming. It took him several minutes of fumbling around in the dark to pull his tangled bedcover away from his face before the pale moonlight tumbled into his teary eyes and the rest of the room. The jarringly peaceful sight grounded him a bit. Still very much alive, he prayed to the goddesses that nobody had heard him cry out.

He was taken aback greatly. For the first time in over two decades, he felt overwhelming fear. Not anger, or a simple, harmless anxiety, but he had awoken in full-blown fear. In the face of defeat, he was honestly grateful for the first time that the young Hero had shown such mercy to him on the edge of his death bed.

Ganondorf rolled onto his side and curled up. He couldn't stand feeling so disgustingly vulnerable. At least he was alive, not that the thought was very comforting. He decided that he was most definitely not getting any sleep for the rest of the night.

That was why it was a profound relief when someone knocked on the door not long after sunrise. He didn't do much other than sitting up; he would rather not have bothered. "Come in." The door opened and in came two short Hylian men carrying a single large, gilded chest. They sat it on his table and left without a word. Intrigued, he got up to investigate.

Opening the chest, he found a reasonable amount of folded clothing inside: basic white linen under-layers, and then what appeared to be a militaristic white uniform embroidered with golden thread as an accent, and a pair of standard black dress shoes in the side of the chest, looking newer and more well-crafted than most shoes he'd ever seen or owned. Which was a pretty sad thought.

Intrigued as to whether the Hylians had gotten the needed measurements correct (and if so, how), he donned the new clothing. White really would not have been his colour of choice, but if a Hyrulean Guard uniform was all he could get, he wouldn't really complain. After all, the uniform didn't look half bad. After a moment, his thoughts flashed back to his invitation to the feast. He was certain his arrival would cause mass hysteria or even a riot. Maybe it was a set-up. For now, he was going to chalk it up to that the Queen was going to have him executed and wanted him to be caught off-guard for the ceremony. Surely that was it.

Surprisingly enough, the uniform fit right down to the shoes. Well, if this was to be a pre-meditated execution, at least he would be comfortable and dignified. He turned his attention back to the gilded chest he'd been brought. Just before reaching to lower the life, his eyes were caught on another piece of folded material. It seemed awfully familiar.

Picking up the red article of fabric, he pulled it from the chest and let it unfold in his hands, reaching all the way to the floor. He couldn't believe they'd actually bothered.

In Ganondorf's hands was a flawless recreation of the cloak he'd been wearing at the days of his fall; right down to the weave of the original. It was most certainly not a cheap and easy mend, either; there was neither wear nor tear or even material found in the original here. Those Hylians were either psychopaths or just very attentive. But mostly mysterious.

Easily attaching the cloak to the epaulets of his uniform, he strode over to the rain-fogged window and took in what little was visible of his reflection. None too shabby, although during the last few unreasonably occupied years, he hadn't bothered to cut his hair and so it had grown long and not been kept up especially well. He began running his hands through the mess, slightly ashamed of himself.

Once neatened a bit, he decided that the look actually suited him and that there was no need to cut his hair any time soon. Just then, he heard a knock on the door, rather quick and eager. Still combing his fingers through his hair, he turned to face the door. "Come in."

As he expected, it was his usual visitor, Link. The short blond stepped in, pausing momentarily. He eyed the Gerudo across the room from him all but briefly. He was honestly surprised at how different his former enemy looked. The clothing he'd personally ordered into production suited the former king well. He'd realized after a moment that he hadn't said anything and his gaze shot to the ground, face reddening a bit.

Ever observant, Ganondorf had noticed the look on the young man's face, but decided to spare him the humiliation and grief and so chose a different subject. "I suppose I should give you," he hesitated a moment, reluctant to let it out. "..My thanks."

Link's eyes quickly shot up from the ground, brows nearly crawling into his hair. "O-Oh. No, it's no problem at all. I-I mean, it took some coaxing to get the job done," he gestured toward Ganondorf's clothing, "But it's…fine." He paused, shaking his head at all the tiny, unvoiced thoughts his head was making toward the Gerudo's appearance. "Anyways, the feast is very soon. I need to discuss something important with you."

Ganon moved to settle one shoulder against the wall, arms folded. "Alright." He was glad at least one person other than him had a genuine concern with how the event would carry out. After all, he admittedly did not like being a societal outcast. Not that it was a very easy thing to fix in his case.

Link walked over and sat on the edge of the bed so that he wouldn't have to yell across the room. Ganondorf hadn't realized at first that the hero was clad in normal civilian's clothing for once; a black button-down and tan pants tucked into boots. Pretty casual for the soon-to-be king of Hyrule. Ganondorf quickly pulled himself from his thoughts as the blond began to speak.

He took a deep breath. "The civilians believe that you have amnesia." The look on his face was stern but always forgiving, as was the norm.

Ganon, quick to understand, nodded. "I presume that you would rather me mention no specific past events and no complex ideals." At that, Link nodded with a heavy sigh.

"I'm really sorry. You're probably already bored enough."

Ganondorf was never exactly surprised by the Hylian's sense of courtesy. Of course the Child of Destiny should have a pure heart and an always-heavy conscience. But to spare and even cater to his prophesized enemy? It was an absurd idea. The Gerudo nodded again after thinking to himself. "All is well and good; however, I would only ask of you to answer me one question."

Link looked up at him, eager to answer as always. "Yes?"

"Why do you feel that I of all people should be treated with such respect and courtesy after virtually annihilating the kingdom which destiny put into your hands?"

The Hylian didn't put much thought into his statement, probably having already weighed in on it personally. He looked Ganondorf in the eyes, baring his emotions wittingly and with purpose. "Well, honestly, I think you deserve a place to call home no matter what you've done. You've been hurt and deserve those wrongs to be righted."

Ganon's amber eyes looked deep into the vulnerable, clear pools set in Link's gaze and saw straight through them. The age-old reasoning that said everybody had goodness in them somewhere. Honestly, Ganondorf had scoffed at it for the longest time. "Surely you can't believe I'm worthy of redemption." He hadn't meant to bare his own insecurity and guilt in that statement, but one cannot unsay what is already said.

Link still held his gaze, determined to get his point across. "I know you don't really want to hurt and kill everyone. You have objectives, and you were taught to reach them that way." He caught Ganondorf off-guard yet again. This was seeming to have become a trend as of late. "You have reached the kingdom full of acceptance that you want. Don't listen to the greed that tells you it's all for power."

The Gerudo gave a rather heavy sigh. "You are wise beyond your years. However, I foresee none of this…acceptance."

Link cleared his throat. "Well, we can only try for that." He looked down for a moment before nearly jumping at a remembrance. "Oh—before I forget," he reached for something in his pants pocket and withdrew it in a closed hand, giving it to Ganondorf, who took it with care. Opening his hand, he saw that it was the topaz-adorned circlet that he had worn before, still intact. He looked at Link, who shrugged.

"I figured you might want it back."

Ganondorf nodded before reaching to fasten it to his forehead. "You have my appreciation."

"It's no problem."

Link looked back up to Ganondorf and for a moment he thought he saw a glimpse of open courtesy and hospitality. The man had changed already although neither actually acknowledged it. Link broke the silence with a quick blurt, "I'll return come time for the feast. Be prepared." He cleared his throat again and headed for the door.

Ganondorf nodded. "I'll…certainly do that." His gaze lingered on the door for a moment after the Hylian left. He wasn't exactly sure what had just transpired. The both of them were enemies, stoic in even the face of death. So why were they suddenly baring human emotion to one another?

Deciding his own composure was rather more important, he sat in the quiet, mulling over discussion topics he could and could not utilize. Basically, he had to play dumb, which repulsed him a little bit, but he would manage.

It was not very long before there was another knock on the door. He went to it and opened it. The blond brat was there, as usual, but this time he was in different clothing than before. Link wore the same white-and-gold uniform as Ganondorf, hair let down and slicked back. Damn, the kid cleaned up well. Ganondorf refused to let his mind wander to the boy's appearance any more, citing internally how such a thing should not elicit any kind of response from him. He quieted his thoughts.

"This way." Link began to lead him down a long series of corridors. This was the first time since Ganondorf's fall that he had been out of his room. For once, the both of them were quiet. He didn't question anything. Neither of them made any statements. For the first time in a decade, Ganondorf felt it: social anxiety. Honestly, he was in fear of the mass rejection he would feel upon crossing the threshold of the door they approached.

Link pushed open massive double doors, stepping through before Ganondorf. The Hylian cleared his throat loudly, getting the attention of a large table of people, at the head of which presided the Queen herself.

Everyone who looked in their direction immediately quieted and those who didn't notice Ganondorf's presence right away were drawn to look when they didn't get a response from their neighbor. There was quiet muttering among some, and Ganondorf knew it was about him.

Link spoke up and nearly everyone in the room other than himself and the Queen was taken aback by what he said. "I would like to welcome our newest citizen and guest of honour: Ganondorf Dragmire."

Ganondorf visibly paled. He looked toward Zelda that he might find answers, but her face was stoic, as though she was in on the joke. An honourable introduction as well as induction as a Hyrulean citizen was the last thing that he had expected. He was sure as hell that he would have been executed, although he still had to admit that there was an innocent fluttering of hope somewhere inside of him.

Bowing, Ganondorf took a much less aggressive approach than he might have taken in the past. He decided to paly along with the amnesia ploy. "My sincere apologies for having caused any commotion. To wake up with naught but memories of such a pure and kind kingdom is an honour. I owe you all my life." The words seemed to fight him, but he had been compelled, if only subtly, to try and do things right this time. Something in him didn't like being the cause of all the scared faces and he latched onto it.

And just as quickly as it had come to him, their attention left him. Most of them went back to quiet conversations and some less-composed people had to quiet themselves. Link got his attention. "Ganondorf. Your seat is that way," he gestured to the seat immediately to Zelda's right, occupied only by a placard emblazioned "RESERVED". He nodded and thanked Link before going to his seat.

For what seemed like a good two or three years, Ganondorf ssat and diffidently picked at his food. From the corner of his eye, he could see many people were too busy staring at him to eat. Finally, breaking the uncomfortable pocket of silence at the head of the table, Zelda spoke up. "You seem uncharacteristically nervous."

He looked up into the face of the queen, who had a familiar, piercing look in her eyes. "There are quite a few who find my presence discomforting," he spoke quietly. He honestly felt as uneasy as any of the others. He was still in no condition to fight if there just happened to be a riot or more than five of them decided to try anything funny.

She nodded. "Of course," her tone was bitter and scathing. "It's very well understandable." In that instance, his assumption that she was in on it all had been confirmed and under her critical gaze he could feel the helplessness of his childhood return.

Link was visibly bothered by the hostility in the exchange coming from Sheik, and even as Ganondorf pushed back his temper for his own sake, Link couldn't help but wear his emotions on his sleeve. The young man spoke up in an attempt to break the tension. "I believe this fortnight has been a triumph for us all." He was trying desperately to change the subject.

Ganondorf had mixed feelings on the subject. Both relenting his own fall and appreciating his being spared, he nodded. "I suppose it has." He gave his best attempt at a genuine smile, but the best he could manage was a sad- eyed, polite expression.

The queen's response was a curt nod, which at least gave Ganondorf and Link some relief in that it wasn't so very harsh as it could be. The rest of the evening was uneventful. Once Ganondorf had returned to his room, locked in again, he simply put away his uniform and laid down. There was no reassuring exchange with Link, no commendation for his behavior that evening. Nothing. So, in the silence, he slept.