Clad in a brown traveler's cloak and disguised as a frail old woman, Impa urged her horse through the dreary pass leading to the Gerudo Valley. Nayru's magic had brought her most of the way across the fields. She prayed the rest of the goddess's precautions would remain intact as well.
The first of a series of guard checkpoints greeted her vision at the top of a hill. The heavy mist over the valley made it hard to make out faces, but Impa guessed the guards could not be of a high class, as they wore basic white.
She said a silent prayer, then half-smiled at the irony of it. No doubt the goddess herself was listening. Impa needed Nayru's help avoid the more powerful residents of the desert. Her disguise was strong, but Ganondorf and the twin sorceresses would be able to see through it.
"Halt!" shouted one of the guards as Impa drew near. The Sheikah pulled gently on the reins, bringing her impatient horse to a stop.
The guard moved forward, young face beaded with water in the rainy drizzle.
"What's your business here, grandma?" the guard asked impetuously, grasping the worn bridle of Impa's horse.
"Please..." Impa rasped, holding back a sharp retort, "I just want to see my son."
The Gerudo raised an eyebrow, "Your son?"
"Yes... you're holding him prisoner here, and I---"
"Listen," the guard leaned dramatically on the shaft of her spear, "I don't know what land you think you're in, but this is Gerudo territory. Meddling in our business will get you arrested in a hurry."
"Fine," Impa said firmly, wondering if the young girl realized her threat had been more of an invitation, "then you should arrest me."
The guard glanced back at her comrade, then up into Impa's wrinkled eyes.
"Hells, lady," she sighed, "you wouldn't last a day."
Impa reached out an aged hand, covering the Gerudo's fingers with her own, "Please. I know you're going to kill him. Just a few minutes."
The girl's eyes went soft for a moment, and Impa knew she had won. The Gerudo turned and made a hand signal to her companion, who made one back.
"Tell the woman at the next gate," said the guard as she pulled Impa's horse forward, "that Kazara gave you permission to pass."
"Thank you," Impa said, inflecting her voice with false sentiment.
The guard let go of the bridle as Impa passed through the gate, and the rock crevasse leading to the hideout stretched before her. The daylight was eclipsed for a few minutes by the tall clay edifices. She rounded a sharp corner. The bridge to the fortress appeared over the crest of another hill, the next checkpoint just beyond.
Impa breathed deeply to calm her nerves. Her heart pounded at her ribcage, but she ignored it, harnessing the fear should she need its power later. Her horse clopped lazily over the bridge, unaware of her anticipation. Far beneath, the steady waterfalls of the Zora River sent up a crushing roar.
The guard at the steel gate stood with her arms crossed, watching Impa approach with a look of amused exasperation. Impa's horse trotted up the stone steps and halted just in front of the woman.
"Well," the Gerudo glanced Impa over, "who are you?"
"Kazara gave me permission to pass," answered the Sheikah, "I'm here to see my son."
"Mm," the guard nodded, looking underwhelmed, "I assume your son is the poor bastard in the eastern cell block."
Impa paused, unsure how to respond.
"Of course he is," the Gerudo continued, running a hand over her short red hair, "he's the only man in the fortress. Shame what Lord Ganon did to him, he's pretty handsome."
"Euh..." Impa made a choked noise, both concerned and disgusted.
"Oh, sorry," the guard said unconvincingly, "Right."
She turned and waved at the peak of a mountain crag, where a glint of metal shone back at her. The gate began to creak slowly open. The guard stepped aside.
"Nice day," she said as Impa's horse moved obediently ahead.
Out of the guard's earshot, the Sheikah swore and closed her eyes for a moment. A final checkpoint stood between she and her goal.
You're close, whispered a voice in her ear. Her eyes snapped open. A blue sparkle at the corner of her vision told her Nayru was with her. Impa noticed the low-hanging mist beginning to dissipate as she approached the fortress.
"I swore I'd never return to this place," she breathed.
You also swore an oath to protect Hyrule, came Nayru's placid reply, That is your duty.
Impa nodded. She had given up the right to her own future the day she had agreed to protect Princess Zelda. The time had come to make good on her oath, regardless of the cost.
The upstairs bedroom of the Lon Lon homestead was quiet and cozy. The downstairs den was filled with cuccos, brought in for the rain, and sported a sizeable leak in its roof. Thus, Malon had decided the shared bedroom was the best place to bring the newcomer.
Easing herself into a chair, she watched Sheik stand awkwardly against the wall. Though handsome, he looked somewhat out of place in his dark, battle-ready clothing. He clashed absurdly with the bedroom's pink lace decor. His visible red eye swept the walls uneasily.
"Please," Malon said to him, "Won't you sit down?"
He seemed startled by the request, "I... thank you, I won't stay long."
His tone made her immediately suspicious, a reaction she hid by sliding her chair sideways. Working around her swollen belly, she pushed the chair against the center table, resting her elbow on the pink tablecloth. She placed her chin in her hand.
"So..." she watched him intently, "You're here for Link."
He seemed to be staring at her hand, "Yes."
She glanced at her hand, where her simple wedding band glinted at her, then back at the Sheikah, "Is something wrong?"
"No," he said too quickly. He looked away as a thin blush spread across his face.
She stared at him, unnerved and confused.
"I'm sorry," his voice grew soft, "Link never mentioned you were..."
Malon leaned back, "Oh. Well, he wouldn't have."
"... What?"
"He doesn't know," she sighed, rubbing her temple, "Hasn't been by in years, since I was about sixteen. And I'm sure you know what it's like trying to get in touch with him. Wish he'd visit, I miss the crazy boy."
"Oh," Sheik answered lamely, sounding both understanding and pained. Malon caught the darkness in his voice and watched him sharply, concern building in her mind.
"Sheik."
He met her gaze evenly.
"What's going on?"
The Sheikah moved closer, pulling out a chair and sitting down in front of her. He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, and brushed his gold hair aside. As his face drew close to hers, Malon was shocked by the intense pain in his eyes.
"No," she heard herself whisper, "Please don't tell me..."
"I'm sorry," his voice wavered, "Link is... he's dead."
Malon's hand flew to her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly against sudden, burning tears. She turned her face away from Sheik, chest heaving as she tried to control herself.
"He..." Sheik continued, sounding far away, "was the bearer of the triforce of courage. The Hero of Time. He died... trying to save Kakariko Village from a Gerudo attack."
Malon let out a low wail, cradling her head in her hands as she leaned into the table. Tears pattered down onto the wood beneath.
"Who...?" she managed.
Sheik hesitated a moment before saying, "Ganondorf."
Malon pushed herself up in furious grief, shaking her head against the truth. Sheik followed her, standing quickly and reaching out for her. She stumbled away and landed heavily on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped protectively around her body. A weak sound escaped her lips as Sheik sat gingerly beside her.
"Why?" she asked the opposite wall, vision blurred, "Why does everyone..."
Sheik's hand touched her shoulder tentatively.
"Everyone?" he echoed with tangible concern.
The agony of the last week and a half finally broke free, and Malon found herself clinging to Sheik and crying into his chest. His arms moved slowly across her back, hands warm. The feeling of comfort made her sob harder.
"Avin," she moaned, clutching at Sheik's clothing, "They've killed him, I know they killed him..."
"Avin?" came Sheik's incredulous voice from above her ear, "the potion maker?"
She nodded weakly, burying her face against the Sheikah's body.
"Oh, goddesses," he breathed, pulling her closer.
He stroked her hair gently as she forced herself to stop crying. They sat motionless for a while, as Malon reflected on the ruin of her life. Had she been inclined to pray, she would have thanked the goddesses for Sheik's kindness. But she didn't believe in them anymore.
The rush of tears finally slowed, and Malon set aside the despair once again. She had her father to look after, and would soon have a child to raise. She didn't have time for sadness.
"Thank you," she whispered as she pulled back, "for telling me."
Sheik grasped her shoulders tenderly, mismatched eyes searching her face.
"I'm alright," Malon assured him, sounding more confident than she felt, "Thank you."
She began to wipe her face dry with the back of her hand. Sheik released her shoulders but lingered a moment longer, as if to make sure she was telling the truth. He finally stood, expression stony.
"Go on," Malon tried her best to look strong, "You have a war to fight."
He looked to the floor, "I'm afraid Hyrule is lost."
"It can't be," she heard her voice growing fainter, "Ganondorf is just one man."
Sheik sighed heavily, glancing away, "I know you and your family have worked hard to maintain this place, but... I would recommend leaving the kingdom."
"No," Malon said flatly.
The Sheikah watched her a moment, then nodded.
"I could stay longer, if you would like." his eyes sought out hers.
She shook her head, "Go. I'll be safe here. Ganondorf won't come after us until he runs out of horses."
"That isn't what I meant."
"I know."
He nodded again and turned away, heading for the door. Malon watched him go. When he'd finally closed the door and left her alone, she allowed herself the liberty of silent tears.
Din's magic carried them into the heart of the fortress. The fiery red sparks of energy stung at Ganondorf's skin, and the king found himself grinning like a child at the raw power licking his body. The glow dispersed and he was standing in the soft sand before the fortress, Din by his side. All around, Gerudos had frozen in their patrols to stare at the king and the goddess.
"You are convinced now," Din chuckled.
"Yes," was the only thing Ganondorf could think of. He stared at her, entranced by the energy she radiated. How had he not seen it before? She laughed at him, a sharp, carnal sound.
"Now," she turned her back on him, looking over the valley and wastelands, "you want to know why I brought you here."
"Indeed," he muttered, watching the sunlight on her bare shoulders.
"My naive sister," she faced him again, "is attempting to sacrifice your prisoner to save Farore."
"The Hylian?" the Gerudo king was sincerely surprised, "He hardly seems worth it."
"I share your opinion. Still, he is one of Farore's pure souls, however pathetic, and Nayru plans to take him."
"And?" Ganondorf nearly smirked, "I thought you wanted a sacrifice."
"A sacrifice, yes, but this? No... I want what Nayru has."
He moved closer to her, taking some joy in her powerful aura, "What is that?"
Din smiled up at him, eyes blazing, "Take a look. She will climb the steps in just a few moments."
"She?" he asked. As he glanced at the stone stairway behind his goddess, he saw. He felt his face turn slack.
Deep beneath a strong glamour, Impa of the Sheikah walked her white horse up the last few steps. She looked nervously about, and her eyes widened as they settled on Ganondorf and Din.
In a whirl of motion, the Sheikah leapt into the saddle and pulled her horse about, causing it to rear back in panic. The excited animal bolted down the stairway toward the wastelands. An explosion of blue magic blew apart the wooden portcullis blocking the desert entrance. The Sheikah rode into the swirling winds, vanishing into the sandstorm. Several Gerudos ran in her wake, stopping short before the wasteland border.
Ganondorf took a few moments to form a complete thought.
"You... want Impa," he said.
"Of course!" Din laughed viciously, "She is a proper sacrifice."
"She..." Ganondorf repeated, mind far elsewhere. His eyes gazed futilely out over the shifting desert sands.
His attention was won as Din draped her arms over his breastplate, gazing up at him with glowing eyes. She tilted her head to one side, red hair cascading over her arm.
"Now all we must do is capture her," she purred.
Ganondorf stood in place, gazing at her down the length of his nose. He took several deep breaths of the dry air as she inched closer. Her strong, tan hand grasped the side of his face.
"You will catch her for me, little chosen one," she demanded in a low voice.
Pride warred with desire in his head, and Ganondorf swallowed to avoid showing his unease. Din's lip curled slightly.
"Of course, my goddess," he said.
"Good," she released him and stepped back, "I will accompany you and deal with my sister."
"An honor," he inclined his head toward her.
She lifted her hands in the air, conjuring an orb of power which glowed brightly even against the sun. Its center darkened and it opened, becoming a portal. Ganondorf recognized the spell. He'd used it to travel Hyrule in the past.
As Din busied herself transporting Ganondorf's phantom horse, the king thought over his near future. The Goddess of Power appeared ready to hand him Hyrule as long as she could save her sister. Without Farore, the triforce would crumble, and everything including Ganondorf's empire would be destroyed. However, a complete triforce meant the coming of a new Hero. The Gerudo king disliked his odds against yet another fated warrior, but there was no other way. He would have to agree to start over.
In the interim, he hated the idea of killing Impa right away. He had hoped to save the Sage's death for much later, until after he'd given her the chance to see Zelda die. He sighed quietly and walked toward Din, who had brought forth his horse and was running her hand up and down its neck.
"Come," she looked to him, voice edged with danger, "Let us hunt."
Nabooru rode slowly through the pass into Kakariko Village. The white flag she held waved in the breeze, hampered slightly by the dying afternoon rain. As she reached the town, Hylians began to surround her. They hung back in unease, muttering to each other as they stared at the white cloth.
The Gerudo pulled her horse to a stop. She held up her hands in a display of peace, one fist curled tightly around the flagpole.
"I have not come to fight," she told them, "I have come to negotiate the return of Gerudo dead."
The Hylians seemed to accept this, albeit warily. A hulking, hairy man stepped forward to stand just in front of Nabooru's horse.
"Stay where y'are," he said with authority, "An' give us one reason to help yeh."
Nabooru's pulse quickened. She thrust her chin a little higher in the air, hiding her nervousness.
"I was told," she glanced over the crowd, "that Hylians were honorable warriors. Surely honor requires proper burials for the dead."
"We ain't warriors," the man's cold eyes appraised her, "You forced us to fight."
He gestured with both arms at the surrounding town. Nabooru looked from ruin to ruin, noticing several piles of rubble collected around the well. Charred wood and stone stood on scorched earth, patches of green grass all that remained alive. The devastation seemed more severe in the light of day.
She took a moment to choose her words, "I... have no control over my orders."
"Yeh could refuse them," the vocal man took an aggressive step forward, empowered by several calls of agreement from the crowd, "Yeh could fight with honor yerself!"
Nabooru was momentarily frightened that the villagers would attack her where she stood, despite the white flag.
"Domel," called a strong voice.
Attention turned to a flight of stone stairs to Nabooru's left, upon which a figure in blue stood. Nabooru drew a terse breath between clenched teeth.
Sheik leapt down from the stairway and walked into the crowd, which parted to allow him through. The villagers made various gestures of reverence as he passed. He stopped beside the burly speaker, crossing his arms. Nabooru watched him warily in the silence.
The Sheikah sighed as he looked at her, "She carries the flag of peace, and she came here alone. I believe her intentions are pure, for once."
Nabooru stiffened slightly at the insult, but said nothing. Sheik stared at her, apparently deciding what to do.
"I will discuss the arrangements with you," he made a motion indicating she should dismount, "in private."
She nodded and gripped her saddle, swinging herself swiftly over to jump down. She held tightly to her white flag as the man called Domel took her horse by the reins.
Sheik waited for the animal to be lead away, then moved closer to Nabooru. His red eye searched her face, his expression unreadable behind the folds of a white cowl.
"This way," he turned and began walking toward a large brick building, one of few left standing. Nabooru followed, nervous.
She swallowed, staring at Sheik's back as he moved. She had hoped to deal with Impa, but the younger Sheikah seemed to be in control of the town for the moment. In order for her plan to work, she would need to convince him she was his ally. At the moment, this achievement seemed nearly impossible.
They walked up a short stairway, and Nabooru felt a sinking feeling as she trod over the spot where the Hero had been killed. No doubt the Sheikah would not forgive her for his friend's death.
Sheik stepped through the empty brick doorframe into a gutted room. The smell of burnt paint hung heavy in the air, and Nabooru caught herself just before covering her mouth. She could not afford displays of weakness, however vague.
"So," Sheik turned to face her, his voice laden with venom, "Why are you here?"
Nabooru froze, "To... negotiate the return of the fallen Ger---"
"You're a terrible liar, Nabooru. Restrict yourself to your talents and tell me the truth."
She worked her jaw, "I've come with a proposal."
He stared at her a moment, then moved purposefully forward. Nabooru thought fleetingly of a knife tucked beneath belt. She knew she would never reach it in time.
Sheik's strong hands grasped her by the shoulders and flung her across the room. She crashed through a scorched desk into a brick wall, falling to the floor with a groan. The splintered floorboards cut stinging scratches into her bare midriff. She reached a shaky hand back for her knife, but a blade at her throat paused her motion.
"If you want to make a proposal," Sheik's voice was quiet, but rang of fury, "you will make it like this."
The Gerudo placed her hands flat on the ground, looking at the Sheikah up the length of a short sword. As the shock of the attack wore off, pain and anger set in, and Nabooru took a long moment to control herself before finally speaking.
"You and I," she licked her lips, "are not so different."
"Easily said."
"More easily proved," Nabooru watched his red eye, trying to discern his reaction, "You and I both want Lord Ganon dead. I can give you the opportunity to kill him."
Sheik snorted humorlessly, "A traitor to all but yourself."
"I do what is best for my people," the Gerudo snapped, catching herself on the edge of a growl, "nothing more or less."
The Sheikah had no reply to this. He stood over her a moment more, blonde head tilted slightly. Then he removed his sword from its resting place on her neck.
"Tell me," he said darkly, "about this proposal."