9: Short

Someday, Ganondorf would stand above them all.

When the boy King of the Gerudo tribe set his young mind to a task, he usually went to great lengths to see it done. Despite his age, the child was resourceful and diligent with most endeavours, taking an almost overbearing pride in his achievements; the bigger, the better.

The haughty youth seemed to have a fixation on such things, in fact... bigger rugs, more 'adult' attire, larger gourds, heavier weights, and of course visions of grandiose about himself and his bright future as propelled by the support of others. Many sisters would joke privately that the boy 'walked ten feet tall' in response to this, for as large as Ganondorf's dreams and preferences seemed to be, the boy himself was at present the shortest in his age group.

But Ganondorf, ears alert to the whispers around him in search of praise or contempt, heard their giggling often enough that it had begun to irk him greatly.

This day had seen him pushed almost to wits end with it, so distracted by these thoughts of height that he was bested in a sparring match by a girl no older than himself. A rare miss on his part had shed temporary fame upon the lucky raider-to-be, but with it came some concern for the little King, painfully replacing the praise he so often received. Embarrassed, he had spent a good hour dodging questions on his health, and even one accusation of having slacked behind this week in training, along with pitying whispers of how the girl in question held a height advantage.

In sheer rebelliousness, the boy had demanded to be allowed entry into the training course and prove the girl's fluke, only to be denied once again. Talented though Ganondorf was, they would say he was too young, too small as yet to complete the trials. 'Such a precious child' his aunts would coo, 'another year to come into yourself, my King' would his attendants soothe, and the boy would huff and glare to stomp away in the first throes of tantrum.

Such a temper for one so small.

It was little wonder that by the time the cooler gusts of twilight swept across the sands, Ganondorf had chosen to seclude himself from others, a quiet new obsession latching onto him with a powerful bite. Dangling upside down from a low-slung beam, tiny fists strained to keep hold of a rather heavy sack of unclean dishes—the heaviest items he could find on short notice without attracting attention. The wood dug into the backs of his knees through loose cotton, and though he had only been at it for a few minutes, his feet had already lost feeling to gain a tingling sensation. The blood had begun to rush to his head in a dizzying and heavy way, and stubborn though he was, the sweat of his palms threatened to send the burlap slipping through his fingers.

Frustrated, he scowled down with determination, fidgeting to keep hold of the weight and willing himself to stretch. He'd had to have gained at least two inches by now, or so he would hope. But when his golden gaze caught the sight of someone rounding the corner, the flinch of distraction was all that gravity needed, and to the stone below came clattering the collected dishes.

"What in the world-!" echoed the shriek, and the boy knew he'd been caught.

Left feeling utterly ridiculous, he breathed a sigh of defeat, skinny arms falling to hang limply with some disappointment. "Go away." he sulked, as the guard came rushing to aid him, his brows furrowed with an angry pout.

She slowed as she got closer, gloved hands hesitant to touch the sacred boy that outranked her. Blessed with a beautiful and motherly face, she paused to take stock of her King with curious empathy, licking painted lips thoughtfully as her slender brow furrowed.

"...Sire, do you need help... getting down?" she asked quietly, fingers twitching and raised ready to assist.

"No." he hissed down at her, wearing a horrid frown as his golden eyes flashed wild. "I can do it myself. I got up here alone, and I can get down, too." For good measure, the boy smacked at one of her hands before crossing his arms in a childish manner.

She recoiled some, withdrawing to hold her arms at the small of her back and nodding curtly to the upside-down sovereign. Ironically, the boy was almost at eye level with her, and glancing down to scan the array of clay pots and broken bowls at her feet, she was able to address him without staring down her nose.

"If I may ask..." she started carefully, raising a brow, "What exactly are you doing up there?"

Ganondorf gave her a withering look, scrunching up his face with childish defence. "How is that any of your business?" he spat, straightening on habit to appear as commanding as possible. "You dare to question your King?"

Despite herself, the guard could barely hide a smirk, taking a hand to her hip in a cheeky manner. "Forgive me, Sire, but you really do beg curiosity in such a position." she tossed her head lightly, crimson hair swaying behind as her eyes glinted with humour. "It's my business because I'm the one on dish duty tonight, and you've taken everything I needed to wash..." She nodded down. "...And broken most of it."

Through the veil of his ire, an abashed blush crept over dark cheeks. "Oh." the boy swallowed once before he caught himself, small hands creeping to fidget with the golden sash around his waist. "Well, you... You are relieved of your duty, obviously. I am a merciful leader, so I won't punish you."

Charmed by it, she couldn't help but laugh, though upon seeing his glare the woman stopped herself, hiding the last of her smile behind her hand. "Sire... come now, you should get down from there. If you fall on my watch, I'll be whipped for it." she offered sweetly, waving a hand to encourage him. "This can be our secret... seeing as how you've granted me clemency for the dishes."

With an evasive hum, the now bashful boy shifted, straining upward to grab at his knees and get a hold of the beam. Though he tried to make it look effortless, the exercise had taken its toll on his youthful frame, and he began to struggle. When suddenly he felt the warmth of her hands about his torso, Ganondorf did not protest or resist, relaxing his legs and allowing the kindly woman to assist him. He fell softly into her arms, held as tenderly as if he were her own son, and instead of lowering the boy immediately, she seemed to revel in the slight affection between herself and the small sovereign.

A slight bounce held him at her curvaceous hip, and though the child glared off to one side in a last ditch attempt at dignity, her sweet and motherly voice caught his ear as swiftly as any whispered joke.

"One day, my King, you'll be a tall and powerful man. You just need to give it time."

His defiant frown began to fade slowly, and like the child he truly was underneath his status, small fingers found themselves tightening about the loose purple fabric she wore. A tired sigh slipped from his mouth, head hanging guiltily, as golden eyes glanced upward once again to meet hers with sadness in them.

"I want to be like that now, though... Everybody laughs at me for being small." as he said it, his voice seemed small and unsure. "They don't let me do anything because they think I'll hurt myself."

Her smile was soft as she rubbed his back, providing the comfort that he so often missed out on. "Then you should stop being so reckless. Sire, you keep trying to live up to this image of yourself, and you've shown great promise for when you are a man... but for the moment you're still a boy. The desert kills adults everyday, it isn't your height that makes us so protective."

Gentle hands shifted to his ribs to softly lower the child to his feet, and sensitive to his predicament, the woman knelt to maintain eye level as her fingers grazed his cheek. "If it really bothers you so much, then find a skill and practise it with the same effort you put into getting taller. Nobody will think about height differences if they don't count over prowess... give some substance to your pride without being such a dare devil."

Though his pout had lessened, Ganondorf turned his nose down to glare at the floor, hands flexing by his sides self consciously. A grimace came about, twitching as the words built up behind it, and finally he grumbled low. "...But I'll still be shorter than all the girls, even if I'm a hundred times better than them at something."

She chuckled some, rising slowly and dusting off her pants as the red powder of broken pottery clung to them. "Not for much longer, Sire. Believe you me, when the time comes that you're taller than the girls, height will be the very last of your worries as a King."

He gave a dismissive and sulking grunt in reply as she turned from him, padding away with a sway to her hips. Over her shoulder she winked back it him, waving a finger. "Don't you go asking the exalted TwinRova sisters to make you taller, either."

But as she left the boy standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot among shards of terracotta, his young mind began to tick over her words. Whether she'd realise it or not, his obsession with height would die quickly to be replaced with something far more worthwhile; a skill that few Gerudo possessed, and a craft in which size did not matter. At her suggestion his resourcefulness flared to life, and that very night he tore away from the stone walls of the fortress in search of this new fixation, with every intention to be the biggest and best the world had seen.

The boy did not ask the old witches to be taller. As she had said, he would become tall in time...

Instead, he asked them for their tutelage, for she had promised he would be powerful, as well.