The Conqueror
Meditatio XIX: Eternal Smile
As Zelda's pale body disappeared beneath the sheets, the unseen Sheikah observer turned away from the peephole and drew his hand out of his pocket.
"She suspects nothing," he whispered to his accomplice. "It's time to go and see the King."
-
The two Sheikah, faces veiled and revealing only the eyes, emerged in the King's antechamber. A burly female guard appeared from nowhere and blocked their passage further in.
"The King has asked not to be disturbed," she grunted.
"We're here on his orders," the taller Sheikah said.
"Not to be disturbed," the guard repeated in her gravelly voice.
"Listen, Brutus, he ordered us to be here. I'd say that supersedes any general order of No Admittance."
The guard shook her head. "I have my orders."
"And we have ours. Either you let us in, or we'll let ourselves in."
The guard scowled and lay one hand on her sword.
"Now, that's just disgusting," the shorter Sheikah said, his first words of the evening.
"No one enters," the guard said firmly. The taller Sheikah responded by stepping forward, drawing back his foot, and kicking her soundly in the nuts. She howled and fell to the floor, rolling and clutching at her groin. The two Sheikah stepped over her and entered Link's apartment proper.
The apartment was lavish and very colorful; there was a doorway apparently leading into the bedchamber, and in this room a red sofa and several chairs, as well as a minibar. The taller Sheikah thought he smelled vodka. The shorter Sheikah thought he smelled something else, but attributed that to the hermaphroditic guard still yowling in the antechamber.
All of a sudden, Link's head appeared from behind the sofa.
"I gave orders - !" he started to shout, but the taller Sheikah interrupted him.
" - for us to come here," he said, and held up a manila folder. "We have what you wanted. Now you have to give us what we want."
"You idiots!" the King growled. "I - Ugh. Fine. Just... wait a moment."
He disappeared behind the sofa and there was a series of rustling, and once, a soft giggle. Then a small blonde woman - really more of a girl than a woman - appeared, clad in a white silken robe, and fled the room. The shorter Sheikah stared appreciatively after her.
"Now," Link said, standing up in a hastily-donned white robe and striding around. "Would you gentlemen care for a drink?" He headed to the minibar and rifled around a bit. He seemed to be having trouble finding what he wanted. "Vodka... Vodka... Vodka... Vodka... Schnapps... Vodka... Vodka... Whiskey... Vodka... Vodka..."
"Your Majesty," the shorter Sheikah said all of a sudden. "Why does the back of your robe...?"
Link froze. In one smooth gesture, he pulled off the robe and examined the back. (The two Sheikah prudently started examining the furniture.) In delicate gold stitching across the back, the words "Daddy's Girl" were legible. He cursed and donned the robe again. The two Sheikah looked back to him.
"She must have taken my robe by mistake," Link muttered, and went back to the booze. "Aha! Wine. Red or white?"
"I prefer red," the taller Sheikah said, and the shorter nodded. Link cursed again.
"Damn it, I found the white. Vodka... Vodka..."
"Actually, Your Majesty, we'd rather just exchange the agreed-upon items."
Link sighed. "You people never allow me the opportunity to really test this body's alcohol tolerance..."
"What?"
"Nothing. Hand me the goods." The manila folder changed hands. Link opened it. His eyes bulged, as well as something else that the Sheikah pretended not to notice, and he closed the folder. "This is - er - excellent. I'll just, ehm, put it away for now. Now..." He looked back to the Sheikah. "My part of the bargain."
"Right."
"Well, you'll recall that I agreed to give you an ambiguously defined reward that could easily be interpreted to a roundabout metaphor for killing you?"
"Yup."
There was a brief outpouring of power, and the two Sheikah collapsed.
"Lurch!" he shouted. In a moment, the burly guard entered, limping slightly. She paused just inside the door and adjusted her uniform. "Get rid of these two gullible tools for me. I've got to go and see to some... er... matters of state." He retreated into his bedchamber, holding the folder close to him.
Lurch complied with his commands, dumping the bodies into the city's sewage system, but little did she know, the taller Sheikah wasn't really dead...
-
Mera bumped into the wall behind her. "Ow!" she cried. "Amrick, stop thrusting so hard! I've never done this with a man before."
"Don't be so coy," Amrick said as he drew back. His features tightened and he grunted as he thrust again. "You've never done this with anybody. It's pretty obvious, you know."
Mera gave a sharp intake of breath. "I have too done it. With No'ua. No'ua Bir, the Council Member?"
Amrick drew back again and paused, frowning. "She does this with trainees?"
"Yes. Don't stop, Amrick. We're not going to make any progress if you keep pausing before we're finished."
He grumbled and thrust again. "It's not working, Mera. We're not getting anywhere."
"But we've been instructed to do this. We can't just give up. Are you holding back? What's the matter, can't get your blood flowing when you're with a woman? You can only do this with other men? Don't make me laugh. Come on!"
Amryck growled. "Well, if you'd stop squirming, Mera, I'd be able to hit the target a lot better. You're not making this any easier."
"Oh, shut up and put it in. It's not like it's that small of a target. Honestly, I think it's the size of the weapon that's making this difficult. That thing is huge!"
Snorting, Amrick thrust again. At last, the blade stuck into the wooden shield Mera wielded, and she lowered it, breathing heavily.
"Finally," he sighed, dropping the sword. "I think we're supposed to report to Sito now."
-
"Well?" Sito demanded.
"We finished," Amrick said. "It took a while."
"I had to prod him pretty hard to get him to really try, but eventually, he put it in just like you told him to."
"Did he hurt you?" Sito pressed.
"Well, I've never done it before, so it wasn't all roses, but aside from that, he was pretty gentle. For a Sheikah."
Sito nodded. "Sheikah are known for their heavy hands. You'll survive."
"I know. I just hope I'm not pregnant."
Both of the men turned and stared at her. "What?" they both said simultaneously.
She shrugged. "Oh, no reason," she said, and skipped out of the room.
"You two weren't doing anything else in that room, were you?" Sito said suspiciously.
"No!" Amrick said. "Well... Not really. We played 'Hide the Pickle' a couple of times, but I kept finding it, so we gave up on having any fun with it."
"Oh. Well, that's fine. You only played 'Hide the Pickle?'"
"Mm-hmm."
"No 'Unfaithful Businessman and Secretary Mistress'? No 'Schoolteacher and Naughty Schoolgirl'?"
"No. And before you ask, we didn't play 'Two Lonely Male Prison Inmates'."
"Oh. Good. You had me worried for a minute there."
Amrick rolled his eyes. "Will that be all, Sito?"
Sito laughed under his breath. "Yes, Amrick. That will be all... for you." The gun appeared as if from nowhere. With all the slow-motion cinematics of a twenty-first century film gunfight, the bullet emerged from the barrel, traveled through the intervening air, and burrowed deep into Amrick's chest. The young Sheikah's eyes widened, and he fell forward, clutching at Sito's clothing.
"But... Master... Why?"
"Because, Amrick. You fear the Dark Side of the Forse too much. You could never truly be my successor. You could never learn to embrace the Dark Side as I do. Do you understand?"
"Master... I..." Amrick exhaled, and his hands loosened their grip on Sito's clothing. He collapsed on the floor. Sito laughed softly to himself.
"Now to finish the job and run him over," he muttered, and vanished from the room. A moment later, he crashed right back through in a '97 Ford Explorer, grinding the young Sheikah's bones to dust beneath its tires. The Explorer vanished into the darkness, taking out another wall as it went.
-
As the sun rose, Zelda emerged from her bedchamber in a fluffy pink robe.
"Good morning, Princess," the King said from where he'd been leaning inconspicuously against the wall. "Would you like to come to my apartments for some... coffee?"
"Coffee?" Zelda repeated. "Gee, thanks, that's better than sex."
"Hey!" Link shouted, then, more quietly, "You can't be so blunt! This is T-rated, Zelda."
"What?"
"This story. It's T-rated. You can't be that obvious."
"What are you talking about? We can't have - "
"No, I'm not saying that. We can do whatever we want... behind closed doors. It's kind of like the military, you know? Don't ask, don't tell. You can do whatever you want, you just can't talk about it."
"...Link, are you telling me you're gay?"
"No!" he snapped. "Well, that's beside the point, anyway. Look. Let's go back to my apartment for some coffee, and I'll explain."
"Is that a metaphor for tongue - "
"No!" He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the apartment, back to his, where they enjoyed some coffee. A lot of really good coffee. In fact, the coffee was so good, and they had so much of it, that by the time they were done, the temperature in the entire fortress had risen by almost five degrees.
-
"The game is up, Sito," Mera bellowed. "Step out of the vehicle with your hands behind your head, and stand facing the vehicle."
"Eat hot lead, copper!" Sito snarled at her, spun around in the Explorer, and revved the engine viciously. He floored it and raced forward, leaning out the door and firing the gun in her general direction. She easily sidestepped and allowed him to crash into a tree. He didn't die instantly, but the internal hemorrhaging took care of him soon enough. Meanwhile, Mera took it upon herself to steal the radio. On her way back to the castle, she lobbed the radio up and through an upper window.
-
"I fee-ee-eel you-u-u, Ze-e-elda-a-a," Link sang when he finished his coffee. "I fee-ee-eel you-u-u... Nanana... Sweetly buried in your yellow hair..."
Zelda lifted her head from the pillow and looked down at Link. "What?"
"Oh, it's just a song I - " At that moment, a car radio smashed through the window and into his head, knocking him out instantly. Zelda stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Then she shoved him off the bed, frowning at the blood he trailed behind him. She removed the bloody sheet from the bed.
"Jeez," she said as she shrugged into a robe and bundled up the sheet, "I'm not even sur how much of that blood is his."
-
"All right! Enough! This is ridiculous! It's disgusting, suggestive, morally repulsive filth and I won't have it posted under MY name, nosirree!" TwilitEye shouted. "I warned you against this kind of garbage, and I want you to delete it right now! Don't you even consider posting it! I forbid it! This is my account and you will not go posting things of which I disapprove!"
"Oh, shut up," Mera said as she appeared out of nowhere. She smote him. And she saw that it was good.
Zelda appeared in the doorway. "Hah! I've found you, Mera! I've discovered your darkest secret, and I'm going to use it to destroy you before you can attain your diabolical goals!"
Mera blinked. "What?"
Zelda pointed at her. "You're actually God in disguise!"
"What?"
"Admit it! Normal people don't smite others. Look at what you did to the author!"
"Co-author," Mera corrected. "You don't think this is writing itself, do you?"
"It doesn't matter. You're dodging the accusation!"
"Because you're not in your right mind."
"What do you mean?" Zelda demanded.
"Well, for starters, you've obviously just had way too much coffee for one person to safely have. I'm surprised you can stand."
Zelda scowled. "God damn it!"
"No."
Zelda pointed a finger at Mera. "Ahah! I got you! You are God!"
"God damn it."
There was an awkward pause as Zelda tried to figure that one out. Mera took advantage of the distraction to strike Zelda down with lightning.
"Well, now that she's out of the picture, there's no one left to stop me from taking over the universe!"
-
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.
-
Now I am alone.
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all his visage wann'd,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!
For Hecuba!
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
Make mad the guilty and appal the free,
Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed
The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,
And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
Upon whose property and most dear life
A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat,
As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?
Ha!
'swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be
But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall
To make oppression bitter, or ere this
I should have fatted all the region kites
With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!
O, vengeance!
Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a-cursing, like a very drab,
A scullion!
Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard
That guilty creatures sitting at a play
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul that presently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father
Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,
I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
May be the devil: and the devil hath power
To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
As he is very potent with such spirits,
Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds
More relative than this: the play 's the thing
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Exit.
-
El apunte de escritor
"The Note of the Writer!" (Dun dun dunnnnnnnnn, dramatic reverrrrrrrb!)
Um... Er... I don't know. It was Twilit Eye's idea. Blame him. Even though I kind of... wrote it all without any input from him... It was still his idea.
THIS IS NOT CANON. I WAS BORED. PLEASE DON'T SEND ME HATE MAIL. IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I'M NOT LOVED.