11: Glass
Though Zelda was held surrounded by windows, it was perhaps Ganondorf she threatened to shatter the most.
Stained glass caged them from the outside world, understated and pale in golden and scarlet hue, framed by blackened stone; his colours. The dim light filtering through these grand windows held thickness, like smoke, painted in dreary and damask shades for such designs.
She found it suited them.
When the Princess looked around her, she saw him reflected in every crevice—in the fragile and creeping lattice as it swept glass like choking vine, in the taste of the cold and stale air, and in the distant gleam of a storm hazed sun faintly reaching to claw at this withered husk of a tower. It contained perfectly, quietly and forcefully, an air of control and order. Something of an arrogance; a taste of finer things that a once hungry King had now learned to savour. Perhaps that was why he kept here within this chamber as well, themed with baubel-like finery.
Satin gloved hands were held behind her back in a guarded manner as Zelda stood, freely inspecting the master craftsmanship evident in the glass depictions. Many might find them vague, a smattering of madness upon prophecy, delicately laid to framework with an almost jaundiced taste of woe. The Princess, however, let her icy gaze roam without bias. She did not feel them tower over her with imposing dominance as intended, but rather, saw in the twisted designs something fragile and curious.
The idle click of her heels haunted him as she perused. Her silence was deafening, and the Evil King found himself unnerved by it. While her eyes wandered, his own golden gaze remained fixed.
Thick fingers would twitch, and the low rumble came quietly, squshed beneath a tension the Gerudo could only hope was mutual. "One would think, Princess, that you have mourned the loss of such luxuries these past years, ensnared as your attentions seem to be... Perhaps there is some envy in your eye?" he began with a subdued and haughty curve forced upon his mouth. "Are you thinking that I do not deserve to reside here? That I have built my tower upon stolen foundations, where your castle would have stood?"
Zelda would offer only the chime of laughter at first, a soft thing and without mocking or malice. Blonde tresses would sway lightly to the shake of her head, a coy movement to his eye; subtle though it was.
"No, Ganondorf. I merely paused to admire the workmanship. Setting aside what it may have replaced, I can see what arose from the ashes was forged in painstaking detail." she surrendered her gaze to him then, delicate jawline tilting to capture him in the corner of her eye. "It is a veritable work of art... though like any masterpiece, I cannot help but wonder of the artist behind it."
No surprise crossed his rough features as they darkened to sneer, a flash of cynical bitterness lining them quickly. "Do not sit and decipher me, girl. I do not care for your opinion of me, nor do I have the patience left to indulge it upon even fleeting whim. You'll not find my mind and history splayed upon this glass, so do not pretend to." his growl echoed across the empty space to be absorbed by those very panes, thinly shuddering to the sound of him.
He had not been dealing well with the over-analytical Zelda's appraisals, and often denied her the chance to impart any wisdoms by them. The very fact that an enemy would have the audacity to inform him of his own nature, as if he were some blinded stranger to himself, was enough of a slap to the face as it was.
What did she possibly have to gain, attempting to lord knowledge of his very being over him so? Judging his worth with that snide, saccharine sense of superiority, and openly telling him not only of his percieved flaws, but how to right them.
She took pleasure in belittling and demeaning him from high upon her pedestal; he was conviced of it, every word from her lips laced with holy poisons tailored only to him.
But the Princess only turned back to the grand displays of stained glass.
"I did not intend to. It would be a fruitless effort, for me to search these things of yours intended for show. I know these depictions and fixtures are just an intentional facade to a greater nuance of you, and I will not insult you by needlessly decrypting their meaning..." a gloved hand rose in gentle gesture to them as she spoke, though quickly found itself folded at the small of her back once more. "I would ask a question, though, if you'll permit me."
The Gerudo would eye her from afar, suspicious of what her query might be. But in these precious little moments before the Hero was upon them, and a grand destiny unfolded before him, she provided the distraction and surcease of anxiety he knew—for owning a paranoid mind—was fragile at best.
"And here I thought you hellbent on answering unasked questions." he would hiss with a sardonic tone, crossing bulky arms over an armoured chest. Fiery brows knitted together over golden slits, narrowed in condemnation of this. "I will humour you, Zelda, provided it silences your incessant need to pry further."
With graceful fluidity she turned, the hem of her dress as a whisper to stone beneath her, and the aloof stare fell upon him, unabated. Her pale countenance betrayed nothing of what she may ask, and the radiance of her was doused by the sombre hues cast about the chamber. Flecks of faint yellow and faded red painted her lifelessly to match him, and in that moment, the two stood shaded by the same grim window as it wrought their shadows upon the floor.
"You sit at the top of this lonely tower, denying yourself an all encompassing vantage of your greatest conquest... but if you truly feel worthy of ruling it, why blind yourself to such spoils? Why not gaze upon the lands you've aquired and treasure them, gloat for them, like you do the shallow fixtures of this chamber?"
It was the seat of his power, the helm of her stolen country, and the mighty zenith of his domain rising jagged from a bleak horizon to loom over all. And yet, the glass imprisoned him as well as it did her.
She would not receive an answer. The unruly flash of gold pinned her there, glaring tongues of fire to sweep this vexing woman before a wave of his hand dismissed her. He threw his cape aside as he turned to the grand organ beside him, and the Princess found herself returned to the crystalline prism, silenced. He would drown out the echo of her foul words with disjointed notes of agitation, thick fingers taking to the ivory instead of her swanlike neck.
He should've known better. He should've known there was no mercy for him upon that sly and serpentine tongue. Even against the powerful thrum of music, there was no salvation now that her seed of destruction was planted to grow within his mind. Link may deal the final blow, but Zelda needed nothing so trivial to be the key to his downfall—she could weaken him with words alone, and though he often denied it, he knew this to be true.
They were not truly windows at all, and it pained him that she found it so obvious.
No, windows allowed one to view and be viewed... these were bars of glass, forged from the last hidden vestiges of shame and regret. The lands he coveted, he had ruined; lush fields grew more brown by the years, rivers trickled weak, and once blue skies were burdened by angry clouds. He had destroyed Hyrule, to avoid surrendering it. He did not wish to see it... But neither could he let it go. The chaos of the outside was not what he had wished for, and in his struggle to achieve his ideal, this chamber fed him the illusion of success and control.
And when the Hero had come and gone, whether it resulted in the Gerudo's favour or not, an estranged and quiet corner of his mind had prepared for it with an otherwise forgotton and nostalgic sorrow.
The beast in him would have its cage, nonetheless, and each of them reflected his heart.