The Demon King's visits continued, their coupling becoming almost mechanical in frequency. Meanwhile, Zelda pondered her options for contacting the sages.
Trying to find a contact inside the castle was problematic. All the servants being monsters, most did not speak her language, and those that did seemed almost too simple to carry out anything other than basic instruction. Some opportunity to get out of the castle would eventually present itself, she realized during her prayers. It was inevitable. So too did Ganondorf's usual silent contemplation of his books and documents.
"Why should I care if these farming peasants live or die?" Ganondorf said, tossing aside the papers one morning. His sour pout made Zelda laugh. "What?" He asked, rumbling and serious.
"You're not very good at this," she said. He shot her a glare of daggers. "If you wish to rule, then rule. If the farmers stop farming, everyone stops living."
Zelda grabbed up the papers and scrutinized them. These ones, in the Hylian script she knew so well, contained a list of demands from disgruntled farmers who had decided to strike. Zelda thought they were foolish to take on such a man as Ganondorf, but she was proud of them for their courage.
"Only you Hylians need these damned farmers," he muttered bitterly, waving his hand. "Execute the lot."
"Did you want Hyrule just for it's empty fields? What would the Gerudo have eaten without the wheat from Hyrule's fields?" She asked in her best admonishing tone.
"There are Hylians enough to farm," he said, dismissively.
"It's a skill passed down through generations and learned over a lifetime. Kill all the farmers and who is left? Or perhaps you think your demonic soldiers could farm the land. I'd like to see stalfos plow a field." Zelda said, laughing, able for a moment to see the humour in it all.
"In the desert-" Ganondorf began to speak. Zelda stopped him.
"This isn't the desert. If you were content to be king of such a place we wouldn't be here," Zelda nearly spat the words out now, her grin quickly faded.
"Keep silent," he said, a slow burning fire in his eyes.
"Whether or not I am silent won't change the situation. Accept the situation and make amends with the farmers," Zelda said, chancing a glance to the tyrant.
Ganondorf responded in a seething, haunted silence.
"Or kill them all," Zelda sighed, tossing the papers back. "Make an example of them if it please you, but those fields must be farmed."
Still silent, Ganondorf sat, brow furrowed, staring at the papers. Zelda sat, equal still, watching him with judging eyes.
Finally, Ganondorf snapped his fingers, and a stalfos knight appeared from a dusty haze, bowing. The clacking sound of his bones made Zelda shudder, and she considered the demon with revulsion.
"Find the leaders of this peasant rebellion. Take them to Kakariko. Hold them there," Ganondorf said.
The knight bowed again and evaporated into a chalky cloud. Zelda stood.
"You're going to execute them anyway?" She asked, folding her arms.
Ganondorf rose slowly and approached, loosening his long silk robe.
"You're a smart girl. I shouldn't have to remind you that this is none of your business," he said, his words deceptively silken. He stopped before her and began to open the front of her dress. "However, I am willing to show you gratitude for your council."
"They are my people," Zelda spoke clumsily as one of his hands invaded the loose bodice of her dress and cupped her breast. "Our terms were that my people would be protected."
He pressed his mouth to hers, his breath tasting of fennel seeds. "You can't protect them from themselves," he said.
He drew her to the bed. Something about the idea of executing the farmers must have put him in an amorous mood, she thought. She felt it in the way he growled her name and the quick, powerful rhythm of his thrusts, and when it was over she felt as raw as it had that first night.
Ganondorf rose quickly and started to pull on his breeches, signaling his visit for the day was at an end. He would beckon her to assist him when it came time to put on hi armour. Zelda stood up, gently, pulling over a simple chemise, and watched him silently from the end of the bed.
"Are you sorry to see me go?" he asked.
Zelda absorbed the question with confusion. It sounded like trickery. "No," she said, honestly. He chuckled.
"You must miss your people," he said, barely concealing his amusement at the thought. "You must wish to see them again."
"I would," she said. A moment of silence hung between them as she worked up the courage to say more. "Let me speak to the farmers. I can convince them to end this petty rebellion. No blood need be spilled on this account. It would save you so much trouble." Ganondorf began pulling on his boots, and thin smile growing across his face.
"An interesting proposal," he said. "We shall see."
"When?" she asked.
"You'll find out tomorrow," he said simply, before pointing to his armour. "Now, fetch me my breastplate."