Chapter Eighteen: Elsewhere; the Castle, and home

The castle's torches were lit in an effort to stave off the chill from the air that evening, and the rain from earlier that day had returned again. The desert king marched through the halls towards his chambers, markedly dissatisfied with the proceedings of this last council. The Gorons and the Zora still raised their concern over the incidents of the Gerudo arriving at their doorsteps, claiming the conspicuous timing of the events to be no coincidence, and suggested foul play was at hand. They wanted an explanation, and a satisfactory one, before proceeding with the negotiations further. He had of course pleaded innocence, and had argued his case both eloquently and aggressively. These were rogue Gerudo, he had told them, most likely taking advantage of his absence from their homeland. He had dispatched his own guard to locate and deal with these ruffians, he had claimed, and took responsibility for their actions, as a king ought too, in a bid to prove his trustworthiness and

Technically, he was not wrong either. He himself had not directly ordered these Gerudo to their little kingdoms. If he could even call them that. No, he had planned this long ago; it was his second, still residing in the desert, that had ordered them. He had personally gone to the Great Deku Tree, for he was, no, had been, a powerful spirit no one else of his tribe could dared have challenged. Well, perhaps his twin mothers, annoying hags that they were. They had instructed him in the arcane arts, and he knew well their power was great. But he was Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, born once every one hundred years. His power was greater, and far more terrifying. And still he could not kill the Great Deku Tree outright, he had had to resort to a slow-acting curse. That sheer raw power evaded him, but only for now.

In the meantime, he had to listen to the babbling of complacent fools, all riled up over a little trouble. So what if the Gorons had lost their choice meal? What did the desert offer but scorpions, snakes, and other deadly critters? So what if the water from the river and into the lake was tainted? What water was there in the desert? They had suffered only a minute portion of his own peoples, and they whined so. Their rich lives left them lazy and soft, and he despised them for it. Even the king of Hyrule had grown lax it seemed to him after 10 years and more of peace. While he had listened more fairly than the other races, he had ultimately sided with them, kindly asking him to find some way to prove his words were truth. As if he had been asking a friend to kindly lend him a book that was beside him. Had he really forgotten that 10 years ago they had tried to kill each other? Surely not, or he was a fool. And an even bigger fool for trying to play friends. Vermin did not draw near a scorpion without risk of being stabbed in the back.

This last meeting had yielded some good news to him, however. In other news, Dodongo's Cavern was open and in business again, the Goron representative was happy to announce, and production and shipment of goods could resume at full speed. Similarly, the Zora representative informed them that their Lord Jabu-Jabu was healthy and well again. Neither had disclosed any particulars of their good fortune, but he had surmised that it was due to a certain individual.

He paused outside his door, staring out the window across from him. The boy had all three stones. Surely, he would come soon.

He had put it together some time ago. He had seen that boy before, he remembered now. He had met Princess Zelda, in the courtyard that his room sat high above. He stared out that window now, in his room, staring down at the empty courtyard. She had the Royal Family's treasure, and the boy now had the stones. It was almost laughable, but he was certain of it: They were trying to enter the Sacred Realm.

He could have stopped their silly game easily enough. He could have had the boy pursued. He could have informed the king of the intruder, and let him deal with it without himself having to do a damn thing. But, he had chosen not to. He had continued to let the child wander free as he had first decided, and now it would be easy work to take them. Without the Ocarina of Time, the Spiritual Stones were pieces of pretty rock. So long as the two of them did not meet, He could still claim that sacred power, and then he would have his revenge.

He sat in front of his desk, still strewn with papers and tomes. He paid little attention to any of them, still lost in his own thoughts. His goal was close now, his desire would be realized soon. Coming here with talks of peace was only meant to bring him closer to his goal more amiably, to gain their trust. The young Kokirian had thrown that plan awry, but now instead of years of work and effort, he could see a new world made for him within days. What a stroke of luck he had had, letting the boy wander!

The boy wouldn't be a problem. He certainly possessed some measure of skill, that was without question now. He had overcome his relatively simple magics, which to any normal man would have been next to impossible. He understood now why his Gerudo assassins had failed him that night; that boy that had thwarted them was undoubtedly the same. He wanted to deal with him personally. He wanted to judge him for himself, see how he measured up. It would be amusing, at least, and he smiled at the thought.

The princess was another matter. Closely guarded at all times, there was no real way to get close to her. Force would be necessary, and again he decided he would see to it personally. Now that all the keys were coming together, this charade would no longer be necessary. He stood and walked over to the mirror in the corner, and commanded in an ancient tongue the magic to activate the mirror. The edges crackled with lightning sparks for a few seconds, before they faded. The mirror's surface rippled like water, transforming from his mirrored surroundings into a darkened stone room, with a single Gerudo female standing before him. She bowed low, greeting her king with reverence.

"Send our fastest, you know what to do," he said to her in a low voice. Then he smiled, a devilish, evil grin. "Our time is come."

The woman before him bowed again. While she did not return his smile, he saw a fire in her eyes that had not been there moments before. He severed the connection, satisfied. They would ride through the night, and they would join him within hours.

The coup had officially begun.

~0~

The princess had shut herself in her own room, expressly telling her guard outside to not allow anyone in, saver her father and Impa. As it was, Impa had arrived not five minutes after, and had stayed with her since for the past 3 hours. Once again, she had pleaded for her father to just listen, for even a moment, to his daughter. Now, more than ever, she had the unshakable certainty that Ganondorf was nothing but trouble, to say the least. Ever since Link had left, which she had kept secret from her father—and Impa had as well, thankfully—her feelings that something was amiss, that something undetermined yet frightful was approaching, had only grown stronger, with every passing day. As of late, she had begun losing sleep, as her dreams had grown dark, and had even begun losing her appetite as well. Impa had taken notice first, ever watchful of her charge, and even she had implored her father on her behalf. Still, he had not listened, though he had at least heard Impa out. After that, she decided to neither see nor speak with her father. Not until he came to her.

She was hurt, she knew it from the ache in her chest, and the redness in her eyes shadowed underneath from her sleeplessness, as she looked herself over in front of the vanity mirror. Impa stood behind her, gently brushing her hair. Impa had listened to her, and had believed her, and supported her every step of the path she had been set on by destiny. She loved her father of course, how could she not? As she had gotten older, however, the more distant he had become. Once, he had listened to her speak of the dreams she had, and she had believed that he listened to her then. She questioned now whether he had really, just to placate her as the young child she was. Perhaps he had seen them as mere fantasies of a child's mind.

"Why won't he listen to me Impa?" she asked her caretaker through the mirror. Her voice trembled as she held back her tears. Impa shook her head, gazing down upon the princess with sad eyes.

"I do not know, princess. If I had to guess though, I mean no offense, but perhaps he feels threatened by your prophesy."

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"The king, your father, is a man dedicated to his people, as you have been raised as well," she added, drawing a smile. "The people love you as they love your father. He is a hero to his subjects, unifying this country as no one had before him, and he has made Hyrule prosper greatly. With peace having been realized for many years now, I suspect the king does not wish to believe it will end under his rule. If I may be so bold to say, I believe your father is most unwise to take such a stance."

"If that is true, I am inclined to believe so too," she answered. "If the history lessons you have given me have taught me anything, peace is a state that must be fought hard for first, and defended rigorously once held. To ignore danger out of denial is far from unwise, it is foolish."

"You speak the truth, princess, I am glad my lessons have proven fruitful." Impa said with approval. "I would not judge your father too harshly though. King though he may be, and I mean no disrespect, I rather doubt he can rule the land on the dreams of a child, or do you think the people would stand for it?"

Zelda did not respond, understanding her point well. She was right, the people would likely turn her father into an unpopular ruler, and she herself would not escape ridicule. She possessed a gift of prophesy, a gift that was not entirely uncommon in their bloodline, but was rare enough that it was a myth among the common folk, and people feared what they did not understand. It was likely then, logically following through, that her pleas were in vain from the very start. Even if he did believe her, what could he do? He was a king, but a king did not remain king for long without the people's approval.

"For once, I hope my fears are in vain," she said after some minutes had passed. "I hope that…perhaps Link will make it in time."

"Ah, the Kokirian child. Yes, I hope so to. He struck me as a very brave young man, I'm certain he will fulfill his promise to you."

She smiled recalling the very brief span of memories she had of him. Little these past several days made her happy enough to smile, but remembering their time shared in Castle Town always made her happy. In the Shooting Gallery, he had demonstrated his superior skill with a slingshot, and had showed her how to use one as well. She had performed miserably, of course, but it had still been a fun experience. She had bested him soundly however, in a game of riddles that had been played on one of the street corners. After returning to the castle with Impa that night, she had expected not to see him again. He had defied that expectation with brilliance, sneaking into the castle, of all things to do! It had shocked her, but it had also made her very happy to see her new friend again. He had proven to be the one whom she had envisioned as well, which had also come as quite the surprise. Destiny had preordained their meeting, she honestly believed that. The darkness was growing in the world, and they had become the guardians of the light.

"I'm glad I have you with me Impa," the princess said to her. "I know it's selfish, but I wish you could always stay with me."

Impa smiled down at the princess, and with a very rare act, bent down and hugged her. "My princess, you will always have me."

~0~

The rain fell softly across the forest, nourishing the trees and foliage, keeping them as green as they ever were. For the critters that were fond of the rain, it was a welcome change to the dry bout that had taken hold in recent days. Only a few Kokiri were out in this weather, most preferring to simply stay indoors, and dry.

Saria was one of the few out from her home. Instead, she sat on a stump of a chair, gazing about the empty room of her friend Link with sad eyes. It had been weeks now, since he had left. News of his departure had been met with varying opinions. Mido had been more than a little aggravated, still angry at him for the…for what happened to their Father. Mido still blamed him for it. At first, he had gone so far as to call Link a liar, but she had quickly shamed him for that. It was one of the few times, if ever, anyone had seen her angry. He was much more subdued in giving his opinion on the subject afterwards as a result. Still, it was not an unpopular opinion. Other Kokiri were of like mind, believing while Link may have had the best intentions, it was still his fault.

She was the only one who defended him. A few were sympathetic, but it was hard to stand up to Mido, and really, it was hard to argue his innocence. He had gone to Father alone, and had returned hours and hours later. Who could say what had happened? Link had not told anyone before he had left the next day.

Tensions had run high the first several days, even as they mourned their immense loss. Now that the guardian spirit of the forest was gone, what would happen to the forest? What would happen to them? Even after passing, the Great Deku Tree's protection still lingered over the forest and its inhabitants. Eventually, that would run out. No one could say when, the only certainty was that it would. Mido had taken charge of that, deciding that they ought to be prepared, and so efforts had been taken to ensure food was in no short supply, and everyone had a means to defend themselves, in case any "meanies" from outside their village wandered in. Saria had been largely the emotional support and guidance the others sought.

Now, weeks later, the Kokiri were more…accepting, of their new reality. But they were more silent, subdued, still processing these new things, still finding ways to cope. She was no exception. Out of habit, she had found herself drawn to this house she sat in, even as she knew it would be empty. At first, she would stand at the base of the tree, or sit, for a little while, before finding something else to do or that needed to be done. One day, she had simply decided to enter. She had tidied up the room—she had made the bed, rinsed clean the couple dishes still unwashed, and had dusted the room—pretending to believe that Link would show up any minute, and somehow life could return to some semblance of normal.

She knew though, really, that she would not see him for a long time.

The Great Deku Tree had spoken to her of her friend. She knew of his true origin, and of the promise he had foreseen in the child. He would leave the forest, he had said, and fulfill a great destiny, one that would change the whole world. And he had told her of her own destiny he had seen in her as well. After she had found the Sacred Forest Meadow, as he had called it, he had told her, as she had felt, that it would indeed be a very important place for her. For both of them, in fact. She held on to that, believing she would see her friend again one day, and it would be there. Every day, she had gone there, and she played her ocarina. It gave her comfort this village could not. Even this house, driven by some urge to care for it, held more sadness to her than she wanted to bear.

It gave her comfort there, too, from her uneasy feeling that something bad was coming.

It had started after Father's passing. At first she hadn't noticed it even, preoccupied with tending to her peers. She had chalked it up to the same uneasiness everyone else felt, but after things began to settle, that feeling remained. She had paid attention then, and she wondered at it. The Great Deku Tree could no longer answer her questions though. She had spoken with her fairy companion of it, Sonnet, and she admitted that she too felt a disturbance in the world's climate, but as to what, or the cause, she could not say. She had asked the other spirits of the forest, but they did not hear her.

She prayed to the goddesses that Link was safe, out there in the world. Shades, but she wished she could see him again. He had always been the stronger one of the two of them, she thought. Just as she had always been there for him when he had shied away from the village, he had always been there when she needed to hear the right words. He was different from the Kokiri. He had a depth to him, of understanding, and personal courage that was inspiring to her. To everyone else, she was almost a motherly figure, but Link, he had treated her as an equal, and a real friend. She could say that of few others. Sonnet, of course, and as much as they butted heads, Mido too. But, without Link, nothing was the same. Shades, but she wished she could see him again!

Silently, she rose, and stepped around the table she sat at to the window. On that cloudy, rainy night, it was difficult to see anything, but she could still make out the outline of her own house next door. And the silhouette of the Great Deku Tree beyond the village, towering above the other trees. At sunrise on a clear day, the sun's rays would shine through those great branches, casting a soft light into the room through this window. She imagined it was very beautiful.

She heard steps land on the balcony outside, and turned to watch Mido peak his head in. Finding her, he stepped inside, and looked around curiously.

"I thought I might find you here. I've never actually been in here before."

"Perhaps you would have if you had treated him more kindly," she replied, perhaps a little more harshly than she intended. Mido's freckled cheeks flushed a little, but he accepted the rebuke however without retort, unlike he usual self would have.

"I just wanted to check on you, is all."

Saria sat down again, in the chair next to the window, opposite where she had sat before. Mido took the other seat, walking almost hesitantly into the house, perhaps feeling unsure if he was welcome without its owner present.

"I thought you should know, but I do feel bad for how I treated him."

"Now you do?" she asked, eyes raised. He chuckled, rather sheepishly.

"A little late, I know. I've had time to think. You're right Saria, about Link."

"What do you mean?"

Mido did not immediately respond. He held his hands folded in front of him, with his head bowed, showing off his orange-red hair beneath his short green cap.

"I won't say I don't blame him, I still think it's his fault, but," He added quickly, seeing Saria open her mouth, "I don't think he intended any harm. He was always a good guy. I knew it, I just didn't want to admit it, I guess."

Saria stared back at him, processing what she was hearing. Mido, apologizing? He had far too much pride in himself for that. But change had a way of altering people too. She supposed, to someone else, she had probably changed too.

"I was kinda' jealous of him, actually," he said after a minute, looking around the room again. "I don't even know how or when it started."

"I'm surprised you can even admit that." He nodded.

"I didn't want to either. But now that he's gone…I realized I want him back." He looked at her then, remorse in his eyes. He was genuinely sorry, she could see that. "He will come back, won't he?"

She smiled, but it was forced. She lay her head down on the table, hiding her tears that had begun to well. She had no answer for him, but he stayed with her. It was Link's fault she was crying, he thought to himself. He may have had the best of intentions. Hell, he may have done exactly as Father had asked. But, damn it all, it was all his fault! If…when Link came back, he was in for a beating, for sure. Then he would apologize.

And still the rain fell.