three: queen of light and shadow

His eyes are ageless, but there is a lack of levity in his features that reminds me of myself when I was younger. His triangular green hat has been adorned by a golden helm with the symbol of the gods imprinted on the front; it looks uncomfortably heavy on his head. The smell of dust and threshed hay wafts off of his clothes. There is a scar on his face, one I've never seen before, one that wasn't there when I last clashed swords with him. I look to his horse. I see a flat, angular form wrapped in another blanket—a shield—covering a gilded blue scabbard. He is still a warrior, then. A valiant knight of Hyrule, rescuing damsels on his day off.

He offers the blanket to me, and I take it wordlessly, holding it limply in my hands. His silence is irritating me. It always does. When we fought, he never boasted of his power like I did. I was proud of my strength. He merely accepted his. He just kept fighting, silent and stoic and smug. I hated that about him. It seems I still do.

"What are you gawking at me for, boy?" I demand before I can stop myself, my voice sharp as a razor. Then, as an afterthought: "Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?"

The Hero looks taken aback for a moment, and then he collects himself. "Not standing in the middle of Hyrule Field, no." He pauses awkwardly. "You…are you…Midna?"

No, you incompetent fool. I am Ganondorf come back from the realm of the dead to strike you down where you stand! I twist my mouth as the thought forms into words and make a strangled sound against my lips. I nod my head quickly instead.

"Are you sick?" Link draws closer to me again. I feel an intense urge to slap him.

Damn it, Dragmire! The King of Evil does not slap people. Remember yourself!

"It seems that you remember me after all," I say stiffly. Link shakes his head.

"But…you destroyed the Mirror of Twilight. You can't be her."

Ah. So the little imp managed to survive my assault after all. She is indeed powerful to resist the strength of the goddesses.

"It seems that I am back." I say. The Hero is so flabbergasted that it takes a moment for him to collect his thoughts. He runs a rough hand through his hair.

"…But why?"

This I cannot answer. And so I do not try to. "I don't know."

He turns his attention to the Bullbo, walking over to its hulking form and pulling the arrow neatly from its ear. It squeals and scrambles to its feet, trotting away with a frisk of its tail.

"Twili do not cross the space between worlds to go cavorting with boars, stark-naked, in the middle of the day," he muses.

"I do not know why I am here," I say. I am not lying. I have no idea why Majora failed to restore my mind into my own body. Link looks at me, tapping the arrow against his palm. His face holds a mixture of joy and bewilderment.

"You're not in pain from the sunlight?"

"It hurts, yes."

"That's what the blanket is for." He sighs heavily. "I was on my way back to Ordon from Castle Town Market. I heard screaming and saw you and I thought…but this can't be real. Can it?"

I don't reply. He seems to be chewing a decision over in his mind. Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out how to steal his horse and make a break for it. Could I knock him down…? I must figure out a way to harness the magic power within me. Obviously Din is amusing herself by choking my connection with Her, but surely I must have some access to the old magic that Majora reanimated me with.

"Come with me," the Hero says suddenly. "Come with me back to Ordon. You can't stay here, and I can't think in this heat. We'll rest a bit and then we'll figure out…just what's going on." His eyes flash. "Midna…it's been years—"

"I will go with you to Ordon," I say quickly, and a little too loudly. Whatever connection the Twilight Princess and the Hero shared during their crusade against me, I do not wish to be a part of it.

I swear to the gods, if they were lovers I will kill myself right now.

Drawing the blanket over my shoulders, I begrudgingly follow him towards his mount, who has wandered idly away. I puff up a bit when I realize it was merely the slope of the hill that allowed for the Hero to look down at me. Standing at my full height, I tower a full head above him.

He runs his hands over his horse's twitching flank and then bends down to one knee, cupping his gauntleted hands together.

"C'mon, I'll help you get up," he says, looking up at me, a smile ghosting across his lips. I stare at him dubiously. I'd rather step on your head and crush your face into the dirt. My mouth almost forms the words but I manage to bite down on my lips and keep silent.

I walk tentatively towards the horse, but the animal suddenly starts and jerks its head towards me. The dark liquid eyes fix on my face and its nostrils flare. It lets out a snort and its back legs prance one or two steps.

I narrow my eyes. Its innate senses do not allow it to be deceived by appearances. The horse knows me. I meet its eyes and smile wickedly. At least, I suppose that it is a wicked smile. For all the control I have over this body, I'm probably baring my teeth like a rabid dog.

"Whoa, whoa; steady, Epona." Link makes a grab for the reins and brings the horse's head against his chest, giving her a stern look. "She doesn't usually react this way to strangers," he says, and then he catches himself. "I didn't mean that you are a stranger, Midna. I mean, Princess." He gives a nervous laugh. "It's just that, Epona has never seen you in that shape before. Come over here and try again; I'll hold her head."

I snort on sudden amusement. If I go anywhere near that animal with the intention of riding it, I'll end up with a pair of hoof imprints on my face. "Nevermind," I say. "I'll walk."

Link fumbles with the leather reins in his hands. "But aren't you coming with me to Ordon?"

"That's what I said I was going to do, didn't I?" I snap impatiently. I notice the look on his face and silently curse myself for losing my head. The only interactions I ever had with Princess Midna were in battle; she was high-spirited and fearless, two things I well understand, but of her interactions with the Hero, I know nothing. And according to the look I'm getting, I'm going about this the entirely wrong way.

"It's a day's walk from here," he says, almost sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," I grind out. "I am perfectly capable of walking to Ordon Village with you and your horse." Each word sounds like it's been cut out of wood.

After a pause, he swings himself into the saddle easily, shifting a little to get comfortable, and then looks down at me. "You're sure?"

To prove that I am indeed sure—as if the one-time lord of these lands needs to deign to prove himself to this scruffy looking farmer-turned -hero—I begin striding across the ground towards the land bridge that leads from the field into the mountains. I hear the soft tap of heels against horseflank, and Epona falls into wary step beside me. She refuses to get within arm's length of me.

I very quickly realize that my mouth was talking ahead of my brain. A day's walk would have been fine for me to sojourn, had I been the real me. But the stick-legged Twili body of mine begins complaining not half an hour after we had pass through Kakariko Village. He repeatedly asks me if I want to change my mind but after his fifteenth query I fall completely silent.

I grit my teeth. Din curse me; I had forgotten that I didn't even have decent footwear. I refuse to let Link see my frustration, though, and I toss the blanket over my head so that it covers my eyes. I can feel his gaze piercing through me, but he is silent. Thinking. Watchful. All the while, his horse is acting like it's sharing the dirt pathway with a snake.

He is bringing me to his village. He must have a thousand questions. I don't think I can even answer one of them without giving the farce away. I do not act like Midna; I do not have her memories.

Perhaps he is leading me to where he can kill me quickly and quietly. Perhaps he already suspects.

I am at a loss. He must sense it; the divine power that courses through my soul is of the same essence as his. I am Din, and he is Farore. Aside from this, we are enemies, destined to fight forever. Even if I am in this body, he should at least be able to sense that.

And yet his face showed no signs of suspicion. When he speaks, it sounds like a shy child talking to his idol.

What, indeed, should I say to him? Shall I tell him now of the true essence of my soul? Should we wage war here, now, in the stifling sunshine coming from a cloudless sky? I find that I am partial to swordfights in rainstorms. Would I be able to take him down?

He will not fight me. I inhabit the body of his former partner.

But if I came at him with the intent to kill, I have no doubt that he would realize that said former partner was…not right in the head, so to speak.

On the other hand, if I play the part of the Twilight Princess, and he believes me, I might be able to bend him to my will more easily. One catches more flies with honey than with black magic and undead armies.

Perhaps that mask had the right idea after all.

It is a sensible alternative. If I can only conquer this feeling of absolute hatred and frustration coursing through me, I will be rather pleased with my idea. My pride, however, has been dealt a rather savage blow. It takes every ounce of will I have not to shake the Hero by the shoulders and blare out that I am Ganondorf, King of Evil, former lord of Light and Darkness and that even though I have been subjected to the pranks of an ancient hexing mask, I will get my real body back and when I do so I will snap your neck like a stick in my hands.

"Are you all right? You're talking to yourself."

His voice rudely shakes me out of my thoughts, and I grunt in reply.

After that, we walk in silence. I hold him up considerably but I am trying my damndest not to pass out on the road. It's the sunlight. It has to be. No physical body can be this frail.

Of course, it could be because I am unused to movement. I do not know how long I was lingering in Limbo. It must have been longer than I thought. Who knew that the strength of the mind correlated with the strength of the body.

But never mind that. I will overcome this temporary weakness. Eventually, I will triumph.

Hyrule Field moves past us, a living montage of scenery that never fails to leave me breathless—and it's not just because I'm, embarrassingly, unused to so much walking. I have always desired this. The raw wild existence of this blessed land, the fall of water against rock, the wind—ah, the wind—have tantalized me since my youth, ages upon ages ago. I come from a land of crushed rock and dry heat, where everything is searing and hard and resisting. In Hyrule, the land and its inhabitants are as pliable as clay. I could reach out my hand and curl my fingers and this whole green kingdom would shiver and bend to my power. In the Desert, I had to fight to survive. In Hyrule, people fell at my feet and worshipped me. They are too trusting. It makes them vulnerable.

I feel a twinge of desire in my heart. It is a primal call, to be sure, but it is familiar to me. I am the embodiment of Power; it is only natural I should wish to exert that strength.

I want this, I think as my eyes sweep from one end of the field to the other. Hyrule Castle cuts an imposing silhouette against the sky in the distance, and a sneer curls my lip. Soon, Zelda.

It is dusk before we enter the old growth forest of Ordon. By then, the soles of my two-colored feet are blistered to oblivion and my sweat has soaked through the blanket in a wide, wet stain. I have been muttering curses under my breath for hours, and although I am not sure that the Hero has heard them, he is certainly made aware of my fury when my foot catches on a sharp rock sticking up from the ground, nearly making me fall on my face.

"Curse the gods for these legs of mine!"

Normally, the sound would have been a growl of anger. Now every noise I make seems to prove that I have two moods: brooding and hysterical.

Link turns Epona halfway around, then alights from her back and walks over to me, reaching out to put his hand on my shoulder.

"Let me help you."

"That's a good way to lose your arm," I snap, jerking my shoulder out from under his touch. I can't help myself. I cannot keep a level head when he is so close. Usually I'm more…tactful. Guarded. This body announces my emotions like a horn-call.

The Hylian's eyes darken, and for the first time he frowns. I match his displeasure and cross my arms again, my hands balled into fists.

And in the dusky light of sunset, with the sound of leaves whispering against each other overhead, he accuses me.

"Ganondorf."

Now, now, don't jump to conclusions. :3 I can't give the secret away that early, can I?