Trigger Warning - SA/Violence

Dark's POV

The dining hall at Hyrule Castle had been transformed, like the rest of the structure, to fit Ganondorf's extravagant, yet sinister, style. Enormous, arched windows line the walls, though they let in no light, instead shrouded by heavy, blood-red drapes embroidered with gold thread.

At the center of the hall, a table of ebony wood runs nearly the entire length of the room. Its surface is polished to a mirror finish, reflecting the flickering light of the countless candles set in ornate black iron candelabras. The floor is covered in rich, deep burgundy carpets, softening the footsteps of any who dare to tread within.

On the table is a feast fit for royalty, but the company around it is far from noble. At the head of it sits Ganondorf, his piercing amber eyes surveying his gathered knights with a predatory gleam. To his right is Amara, her smug attitude amplified by the recent success of her mission.

On Ganondorf's left is Ralph, a young mage with long brunette hair swept into a low bun, and gray eyes. His handsome face is marred by a perpetual sneer, the result of his delight in the power he now wields. Zelda had sentenced him to a lifetime in the castle dungeon for abusing his magic and killing three civilians. He was still rotting down there when he accepted Ganondorf's offer of freedom in exchange for servitude.

Across from Ralph, next to Amara is Gormac, the hulking one-eyed Hinox. His sheer size makes him an imposing figure, but his brutish strength is matched by a simple mind. His loyalty to Ganondorf is unquestionable, and he serves as the muscle of this twisted group. Despite his lack of intelligence, I appreciate Gormac's straightforward nature; at least he isn't cruel.

I sit opposite Gormac and next to Ralph, as far from Ganondorf as I can get. A servant is refilling my wine glass and I'm thankful they never let it empty, it takes a lot of alcohol to get through these dinners.

Ganondorf raises his goblet. "To Amara, for her successful mission in Zora's Domain. She has proven her worth once again."

The rest of the table seats low-ranking minions who raise their goblets in unison, and loudly toast. I don't think they know what they're toasting, they're just here for the rich food and free booze. I lift mine half-heartedly and then drain the glass. The servant quickly fills it as soon as I set it back down.

"Amara," Ganondorf continues, turning his gaze to her. "Tell us of your mission. How did Queen Rutela react to our... persuasion?"

Amara stands, one hand on her hip, the other holding her goblet. "Queen Rutela was... reluctant," she begins, a sly smile playing on her lips. "But the capture of her son, Prince Ralis, convinced her to see things our way. He is now safely imprisoned in our dungeon, and the Zoras will soon submit to your rule."

Ganondorf's laughter echoes. "Excellent work."

She inclines her head respectfully, "Thank you, my lord."

Ralph leans over to me, a wicked grin on his face. "I think the idea of a royal hostage is quite appealing. It's about time those pompous shits get a taste of their own medicine."

Gormac, who has been silently devouring his meal, grunts in agreement. "More prisoners, more power," he rumbles, his voice a deep growl.

The conversation continues, the knights and minions discussing strategies and past victories. I remain silent and brooding. The memory of Amara's words at the bar, her quiet confession, haunts me. I glance at her, seeing the fierce warrior, but also remembering the vulnerability she had shown. My animosity towards her flares up again, mingled with a reluctant understanding.

Ganondorf's voice pulls me from my reverie. "Dark, You have been uncharacteristically quiet. Do you have any insights to share?"

All eyes turn to me, and I feel the weight of their scrutiny. I straighten in my seat, meeting Ganondorf's gaze. "No, my lord," I reply evenly. "Just contemplating our next move."

Ganondorf narrows his eyes, studying me. "Very well. Ensure that your contemplation leads to results. We have much work to do."

I nod, feeling the attention in the room shift away from me. The conversation resumes, but I remain distant. Ralph leans over to me, a wicked grin on his face. "You know, I wish he would let Princess Zelda join us at dinner, I've always found her to be quite adorable. Don't you agree?"

I glance at him, unamused. "Adorable? Hardly the word I'd use."

He chuckles,"Oh, come on. She's got that innocent look, with those big blue eyes and that perfect blonde hair. It's almost a shame we're enemies."

I sip my wine and roll my eyes.

Ralph smirks, undeterred. "C'mon you can't deny she's easy on the eyes. Even Gormac here must have noticed."

Gormac pauses his devouring of the feast, looking up with a puzzled expression. "Zelda? Pretty, yes. Small. Easy to catch."

He laughs at Gormac's bluntness. "See? Even the meathead agrees."

I set my glass down with a bit more force than intended. "We have more important matters to discuss than Princess Zelda's looks."

Ralph leans back, his grin widening. "Touchy, aren't we? So, tell me, Dark, what's your type of woman then?"

I feel a moment of panic, unsure of how to respond. "I... don't really think about that sort of thing."

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Not into women, then?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "What about men? Got a type there?"

I can feel Amara glance my way as heat rises to my face, and I struggle to maintain my composure. "My personal preferences are none of your concern, Ralph."

His grin turns predatory. "Interesting. Very interesting. You know, you don't have to be so shy about it. We're all friends here, aren't we?"

Ganondorf's voice cuts through our exchange, saving me from further embarrassment. "There is another matter that requires our attention. I have decided that the Temple of Time in Castle Town must be destroyed. Long has it stood as a symbol of resistance and defiance against my rule, it is time that we burned it to the ground."

My heart clenches. The Temple of Time is more than just a building to me; it's a place steeped in history and memories, particularly those of the last hero of Hyrule, the Hero of Time. We often traveled there together and that Temple is where he first drew the Master Sword. Destroying the temple would be like erasing a part of his memory.

Immediately, the rest of the knights volunteer, eager to prove their worth and gain his favor. Ganondorf's gaze sweeps over them, but then his eyes lock onto mine. A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face.

"Dark," he says, his tone dripping with malice. "You will handle this mission."

I freeze, my mind racing. I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of my memories and my duty to the past hero pressing down on me.

"My lord," the wine must be making me bold. "The Temple of Time is a place of great historical and cultural significance. Destroying it might provoke more resistance. Perhaps there is another way to diminish its influence without resorting to such… drastic measures?"

His eyes narrow dangerously. "Are you questioning my orders?"

I hold his gaze. "I am merely suggesting an alternative that might serve our purpose without inciting further rebellion."

The room falls deathly silent. Ralph, Amara, and Gormac suddenly find their plates very interesting.

Ganondorf rises from his throne, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over me. "I did not ask for your opinion. I gave you an order. You will not question me. You will destroy the Temple of Time. You will demonstrate the futility of defying my rule. Or do you need another reminder of where your loyalties should lie?"

The memory of his whip flashes in my mind, and I can almost feel the sting of the lash across my back. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I struggle to suppress my hatred.

"No, my lord," I say, my voice tight with barely restrained fury. "I understand. I will carry out your orders."

Ganondorf's smile returns, cold and triumphant. "Good. I expect the temple to be nothing but rubble by the end of the week."

The dinner continues, the atmosphere still tense from our heated conversation. Amara glances at me, her expression unreadable, while Ralph and Gormac exchange a look that says I'm glad I'm not the one he yelled at. I push my food around my plate, my appetite gone. The thought of destroying the Temple of Time fills me with dread.

As the feast draws to a close, the knights and minions begin to disperse until it is just Amara and I left at the table. "Be careful, it is best not to upset him." she says softly,

I nod, and while I appreciate her concern, I just want to be left to my thoughts.

I leave the dining hall and make my way down the dimly lit corridor. The shadows seem to close in around me and I'm thankful for their company.

"Dark," a smooth voice calls from behind me.

I turn to see Ralph striding towards me. His long brown hair now freely cascading over his shoulders, a mischievous look on his face.

"What do you want, Ralph?" I ask, my voice edged with irritation.

He reaches me and places a hand on my shoulder, his touch both confident and invasive. "Relax. You looked like you could use a distraction," he purrs, his fingers trailing down my arm. "How about joining me and the others for a drink? We could all use a little... unwinding after that dinner."

I shrug off his hand, trying to put some distance between us. "I'm not in the mood for company,"

Ralph steps closer, his eyes narrowing with amusement. "Come now. Don't be such a killjoy. We've all had a rough day, and a few drinks could help take the edge off."

I hesitate. His persistence is frustrating, but I also know that isolating myself won't help my situation. Reluctantly, I nod. "Fine. One drink."

Ralph's smile widens. "That's the spirit. Let's go, the others are waiting."

He leads the way through Castle Town until we reach a tavern tucked away in one of the castle's less frequented corridors, "The Wicked Wench", fitting. Inside, the atmosphere is warm, Amara and Gormac are already there, seated at a corner table with a few other minions. They look up as we enter.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Amara says in mock surprise.

Gormac grunts in acknowledgment, his massive frame taking up most of the space at the table.

Ralph slides into a seat next to Amara, patting the spot beside him.

I sit down reluctantly and a barmaid approaches to place a mug of ale in front of me. I nod my thanks, take a sip and let the warmth of the drink spread through me.

"See? Not so bad, is it?" Ralph says, his tone teasing.

As the evening progresses, the drinks continue to flow. Ralph, ever the instigator and flushed from too much ale, leans over to Amara with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Amara, I bet you think you're stronger than any of us here."

Amara, her eyes bright with challenge, grins back. "I know I am. Want me to prove it, Ralph?"

His grin widened. "Absolutely. Let's have a little contest."

The table was quickly cleared, and Ralph and Amara took their places across from each other, locking hands over the polished surface.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Ralph said, his voice slurred but determined.

Amara smirked, "Prepare to be humbled."

The match starts slow, both competitors feeling out the other's strength. Ralph's muscles strain, his face contorting with effort as he tries to force Amara's arm down. But she holds steady, not even breaking a sweat.

"Come on, Ralph, is that all you've got?"

Ralph groans, summoning all his strength for one last push. Amara doesn't hesitate, with a sudden burst of power, she slams his hand down onto the table, the impact echoing through the tavern.

Everyone erupts into cheers and jeers, and Ralph, panting and red-faced, slumps back in his chair. "Damn, you're strong."

Amara lifts her goblet in a mock salute. "Better luck next time."

As the excitement from the first match died down, Gormac lumbers to his feet, his massive form towering over the rest of us. "My turn," he rumbles.

Amara looks up at him."Alright, Gormac. Let's see what you've got."

Gormac and Amara take their places. Gormac's hand dwarfs Amara's, but she doesn't seem intimidated.

Gormac's sheer strength was immediately apparent, his muscles bulging as he pressed down on Amara's hand. The table creaks under the pressure, but Amara holds her ground, her arm trembling with effort.

We all watched in breathless anticipation as the two warriors battled. Slowly, Gormac began to gain the upper hand, his brute strength overpowering her.

But Amara is not one to give up easily. With a roar of determination, she pushes back, using every last ounce of her strength. The struggle is intense, both contestants holding fast.

Finally, with a surge of effort, Gormac forces Amara's hand down, practically throwing her from the table. The room explodes into even louder applause than the first match.

Gormac's face breaks out in a wide, drunken grin,"You fight well," he says, offering Amara a hand to help her up.

Amara accepts his hand and stands. "And you're a beast, Gormac. Well done."

Ralph, still riding the high of the evening's excitement, looked over at me with a playful smirk. "What about you, Dark? Fancy a go at arm wrestling?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, thank you. I prefer to keep my strength for more important matters."

Ralph raises an eyebrow, then taunts. "It is because you are afraid you'll lose to a girl."

I shake my head again. "Believe what you like, Ralph, but I'm quite content to let you all have your fun."

Amara, still flushed from her match, grins at me. "Smart man. Knows when to pick his battles."

"How about a different game?" he suggests, gesturing towards the dartboard on the far wall.

I roll my eyes but I'm decently drunk and find myself intrigued, despite my better judgment. "Fine. What's the catch?"

Ralph grins wickedly. "No catch. Just good old-fashioned skill. Think you can handle it?"

The game begins, and to my surprise, I find myself loosening up even more as the ale continues to take the edge off my tension. The camaraderie of the group is infectious, and the alcohol has us all feeling more relaxed. Ralph is relentless, throwing his darts with a practiced hand and a sly grin, but I quickly realize I have an edge.

Ralph took his stance, aiming carefully. He threw his first dart, hitting the inner ring. "Not bad." he said, squinting at the board. His next two darts follow, one landing close to the center but the other hitting the bullseye.

"Try and beat that, Amara."

She steps up next, and throws her darts in quick succession, each one landing close to the center but none hitting the bullseye.

"Oh whatever," she says, ever the sore loser. "I'm still stronger than you, Ralph."

Gormac steps up and gives quite the show. He throws all three darts at once and they land all over board, one even sticks in the wall. He looks back at us and shrugs "Gormac is strong. Not good with tiny weapons. Put axe in my hand. See how well I throw." he chuckles.

Finally, it was my turn. I step up to the line and take a deep breath, rolling the first dart in my hand. I'm not one to brag, but even heavily intoxicated, I know I have better aim than all these fools. My first, second, and third dart all hit the bullseye, cramming all close to dead center as they can get.

I turn to them and give a dramatic bow, which makes the whole table erupt into drunken applause. For the first time in a long while, I feel truly at ease, I am actually having fun.

Ralph walks up and claps me on the back. "Of course, you would win. Is there anything you're not good at?"

I shrug, a small smile playing on my lips.

As the cheers and laughter continue, Ralph turns to me with an unreadable look in his eyes. "Well, Dark, you've proven yourself the victor tonight. I think you deserve a prize."

Before I can react, Ralph leans in and plants a swift kiss on my lips. My eyes widen in surprise, and I pull back, my mind reeling.

He stands there, a sly smile spreading across his face. "There you go, champ!"

Amara burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, that's one way to reward a winner!"

Gormac shrugs and takes another sip of ale. "Strange reward."

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to hide my discomfort. "Thanks, Ralph," I say dryly, attempting to maintain my composure. "Next time, maybe just a handshake."

He laughs, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Where's the fun in that?"

The excitement winds down at the tavern as the night wears on, many of the patrons finish the last of their drink and head home. The candles flicker low and the table is littered with empty mugs and plates, evidence of a night well spent.

Amara leans back in her chair, and slurs "Wellllll,I think… that's enough excitement… for one night."

Gormac nods, his voice a deep rumble. "Gormac tired."

I decide it's time to leave as well. "I should…be heading back," as I push my chair in, I stumble a bit. Shit, It's been a looong time since I was this drunk.

"Leaving already, Dark? You good to walk home by yourself?" Amara slurs, raising an eyebrow.

I nod. Like she's one to talk!

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

Ralph, who has been watching me closely, stands up. "I'll walk you back, Dark."

I hesitate for a moment, but he wraps his arm around me and begins walking me towards the exit.

We step into the cool night air, the quiet of Castle Town a stark contrast to the lively tavern. We walk side by side, our footsteps echoing in the deserted streets. At some point Ralph slides his hand into mine, leading the way back to the castle. I have to admit, it has been awhile since anyone has held my hand, it feels… nice.

Ralph glances at me "You know, you were pretty impressive with those darts. I would hate to be a dartboard with you around."

I shrug, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I have my moments."

As we walk, my mind races. The memory of Ralph's kiss still burns on my lips. How could I betray Link? It is betrayal if the man you love is dead? And what did Ralph's kiss even mean? Maybe it was just a drunken joke, or was there something more behind it?

We continue walking in comfortable silence, but the air between us is charged with unspoken words. We reach my room, the heavy wooden door standing imposingly in the dim light of the corridor. I turn to face Ralph, but he is the one that breaks the silence.

"You know, if you're not ready to call it a night, my private room is just down the hall. We could... have another drink?."

I hesitate, the offer hanging in the air between us. The temptation to seek comfort, to lose myself in the moment, is strong. Part of me wants to push Ralph away, to keep the memory of Link sacred and untouched. But another part of me, the part that craves companionship and warmth, wants to give in to his advances.

Maybe it is the drinks talking, or maybe it is the loneliness that had plagued me for so long, but I find myself nodding. "Lead the way."

Ralph's grin widens and he grabs my hand again to lead me down the corridor to his quarters. He tells some silly joke and we both giggle drunkenly as we walk, all the tension of the earlier day melting away.

We reach his room, and he fumbles with the key, struggling to get it into the lock. I watch him for a moment before an idea strikes me. I place a hand on his shoulder, and he looks at me, puzzled.

"Let me," I say, smirking.

Before he can respond, I focus my energy and with a wave of my hand, we teleport into his room. The sudden shift in location leaves Ralph wide-eyed and stumbling.

"Whoa, that was... unexpected," he says, laughing.

I laugh too, and we both collapse onto the bed, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. The room spins, the remnants of our drunkenness making everything seem more surreal.

He looks over at me with a mixture of awe and amusement. "You've got some impressive tricks up your sleeve, Dark."

I grin, feeling a strange sense of pride. "Thanks."

Our laughter subsides, and Ralph's gaze softens. Without another word, he leans in, and I find myself closing the distance between us. The kiss is intense, a surge of pent-up emotions and unspoken desires.

His hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate. His touch is rough, no trace of the tenderness I had with Link.

It's exactly what I need.

He wraps his hand around my throat, holding me to the bed as he sucks and licks his way from my mouth to my ear. I shiver, and grab his shoulders to flip him so he is below me.

I pull his shirt over his head, kissing my way down his body. I start with his throat and continue past his navel stopping just above his waistband. Ralph wrestles his belt free letting his pants fall and sinks his hands into my hair. "Please" he moans. "I want you to take me into your mouth."

I oblige. His fingers dig into my tunic, his nails leaving fiery paths down my back. His groans get breathier and louder as I continue. ""I've wanted this for so long." he moans.

I freeze. Suddenly, I'm back with Link, in the hot springs, under a starlit sky.

Our kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and passionate. My hands roam his back, tracing the contours of his muscles as I memorize every inch of him. The warmth of the water mingles with the heat of our bodies.

"Link," I whisper against his lips, my voice husky with desire. "I've wanted this for so long."

"Me too," he replies, his hands sliding up to tangle gently in my hair. "I've wanted you for so long."

The memory of that time together, so full of love and tenderness, is a jarring contrast to my current reality.

I pull away abruptly, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "I... I can't do this."

Ralph looks at me, confusion etched on his face. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, backing away. "It's too much. I can't... I need to go."

"Are you kidding me?" he says angrily, pulling his pants on as he sits up. "You're leaving right now? I haven't even finished yet."

"Fuck you."

He grabs my arm, pulling me back towards him. "You're not going anywhere" he growls.

I yank my arm free, anger flaring. "I just told you. Fuck. Off. I'm leaving."

Before I can react, Ralph pushes me against the wall, pinning my arms to my sides. I can feel his magic flaring, adding strength to his grip. "I told you. You're. Not. Going. Anywhere."

He swings at me, his fist connecting with my jaw. My head slams back against the wall and lights dance before my eyes. He punches me again, this time in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. His fingers twist tightly in my hair, forcing my head to tilt back and expose my neck. I feel powerless as he runs his tongue down the side of my throat, his other hand reaching down to fumble with my belt.

I try to struggle out of his grip but I'm too drunk and too disoriented. As Ralph's touch violates my body, I feel something shift inside me, a visceral, all-consuming fury that seeps into every fiber of my being.

I drive my knee into his gut, and follow up with an elbow to his nose, forcing him to stumble backwards.

Blood is dripping down his face as he raises his hand, sending a gust of wind towards my chest. I raise my own and form a dark shield to absorb the energy and channel it back at him. The force of my blast sends him flying back, crashing into the wall opposite of me.

He struggles to his feet and smirks, a manic gleam in his eyes. "I hope you fuck like you fight. It will make this evening much more interesting."

With a roar, he charges at me and I barely manage to block his blow. I feel my strength waning,

Ralph's second punch connects with my ribs, the pain blinding. I retaliate with a blast of dark energy, sending him crashing into the floor. He lays there, gasping for breath, and I give him no time to recover.

I tackle him, straddling him, striking him again and again in the face. He struggles against my onslaught, but I press on, channeling all my anger and frustration into the attack. I grab the fingers of his right hand, snapping them with a sick crunch.

Ralph screams, "Stop! Stop! Stop!" his cries echoing off the walls of his bedchamber.

I keep going, continue to pelt his face until finally, he stops fighting back. He is barely conscious and his face is a swollen, bloody mess.

I push myself to stand, breathing heavily, my body trembling with exhaustion. "Stay down," I warn, my voice cold.

Ralph's only response is a painful groan.

As I reach for the door, I pause to look back one last time. he is still on the floor, broken but alive. I walk quickly to my room, trying to put as much distance as I can between us. My body aches with each step, bruises forming from where his fists landed, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional turmoil inside me.