The King of Sands
Hyrule Castle was a grand and lavish place, a monument to the craftsmanship of Hylian architects. On entering the main gate, the front-runners of procession quickly began to alight from their horses. The young king and his companions did likewise, handing their horses off to some fresh-faced stewards - presumably to lead the horses onwards to some nearby stable. Dismounting elegantly while his stallion still trotted forward, Ganondorf gave his steed a pat and whispered gently as a steward took the reins from him. There, there, Gyatras. I won't be long. He nodded curtly to the steward before Gyatras was led away.
It was only now the northern chill reminded him where he was. Ganondorf clutched his robe around him instinctively, though it gave little warmth. A piece of cloth was all it was; though coloured resplendently in tones of black and gold, it offered no defence against these winds that pierced even stone.
And stone there is aplenty, thought the king, gazing up at the majestic stone walls from within the castle. Much of the masonry was so finely done, it oft seemed as though the castle had been carved out of one vast fragment of rock. As if that alone wasn't testament to the skill of the builders, the detail was exquisite. Floral patterning and heraldic devices criss-crossed the walls and ceiling. Impressed, Ganondorf reached out to trace one such design. The cold stone seemed to grab at him, leeching the heat from his hand. It was strange to feel such coldness on stone.
Stone. Cold stone. So very different from the sandstone and marble of the valley. On the journey here, he had tracked across sand, mud and stone, making it seem as if the density of the world converged in this place. The weight of Hyrule, its seat. The obvious place to house the Golden Throne.
...all this could be yours...
The thought tracked across his mind unbidden. He quashed it with a grimace and picked up his pace. He was here to meet the king. The last thing he wanted was his inner voice to reflect his true self to the monarch. I would be hanged for treason - or worse. Ganondorf was envious, and he knew it. He could feel it gnawing at his heart. This palace, this finery, even the cold stone filled him with a yearning at the very core of his being. In the desert, even water was a valuable commodity. Here fresh water flowed through the castle itself, slaking the earth's thirst, and the people's. Here even peasants feasted on the fat of the land whilst in the desert men were starving and dying.
...the strong take what they want...
The whispers echoed around his mind, seeming to multiply. No, he thought. Not here, not now. The King of Hyrule was not someone to be taken lightly. Some said he could see through a man, and into his soul. The Royal Family of Hyrule had magic in their very blood. Even a stray thought could be disastrous. They have no love for the Gerudo. I must not give them cause to hate us.
Shouting an internal mantra loud enough to drown out the insidious whispers within him, Ganondorf stepped onwards with purpose towards the heart of the palace. Towards the Golden Throne.
Like Chapter 1, at some point I want to flesh this out. I'm keeping it short and sweet for the moment while I get a grip on what I'm doing.
As always, read, review and enjoy! :)
~LF