Save me, I'm lost; WHO: Zelda, Ganon, Link. Cameos by four other characters! WHAT:Prompt here. I hope I hit all of the marks requested! All the words are used (inundated, observant, and fastidious). Took a little bit of liberty with the prompt (who has powers, really). I worked really hard on this, and I was a little out of my element. So please let me know how I did! I would really appreciate feedback and comments and critiques!
And this is for Ilene. <3
Lastly, my sister Silvie helped me edit this so mentally thank her!
RATINGS: R, I'd say. Certainly heavy. Character death, sexual situations, violence. Rated L for Long, lol. I find happy endings impossible to write, so... This does not end happily for any characters involved.
Empathy was not a gift. It was a curse.
It seemed like such a wonderful gift, to be able to look into the hearts of others; to feel and heal all their pain. But that was the crux of the issue: for all she could share the pain, heartbreak and fear of others, there was nothing she could do to make it go away. There was nothing she could do to help. There was no crueler knowledge, to know the pain of others and yet be unable to change it.
It was especially cruel now, when the overwhelming feeling of pain of her fellow captives haunted her every movement. Their pain wailed at her in high, keening screams: save us, save us, save us. Every day she reminded herself that these were not her people. They were not her responsibility. Yet – she was not incapable of pity. She truly did feel sorry for them.
But she could not. There was nothing she could do for them.
This place, which had once been a safe haven for so many, was now a place of torment. At first, there had been an overwhelming feeling of confusion. There was not a single person who was untouched by the whirlpool of uncertainty: memories of another life resurfacing in their minds, old feelings stirring to life in their hearts, and the knowledge that they did not control either and that there was no escape from their gilded cages. Old powers had returned to but a few -- (oh, how she wished that she had not been one of them) -- and that bewilderment had transformed quickly to fear.
For some, memories had trickled in slowly and steadily like a leaking faucet; a drip here, a drop there. Not for her. Her memories had been like a hurricane, looming on the edge of her consciousness before swallowing her whole. They had been overwhelming and all encompassing, inundating her every sense. The empathy had already roared in her consciousness, trampling her with the fears of too many to count, the strange and foreign memories that were supposedly her own had been unbearable.
But while she could remember all of her past lives, only her most basic of abilities had returned: her empathy and her precognition. She cursed them both, for neither had done her any favors even in the past. The visions were always too vague, too undefined; even at its clearest, what she saw she could never be related to a certain time. She had no way of knowing when something would happen, just that it would; barring her taking the necessary steps to change it, of course. Sadly, in her current state, she lacked the experience to narrow her view.
It was frustrating, that only her curses had come back to her. She had tried so hard to focus, to find Link in the city – but just as like in the days of old, she had been unable to. She could not find her Hero, the man she was supposed to depend upon. Neither could she locate the Dark Lord. When she reached out, she could sense him; but his thoughts were slippery and devious. The second he seemed to be within her reach, his thoughts would slither out of her range and be lost to her.
Truth be told, there was a part of him that feared to seek him out: if she could find him, then he could most certainly find her.
A part of her hoped, desperately, that because she was not in Hyrule, she would be safe. After all, she had so few powers. She had no kingdom for him to take. There was nothing that he could take from her that would be of any use to him. But, no matter how hard she tried to forget, the scar on her hand reminded her; it wasn’t her power or her kingdom that Ganon would be after.
She was probably paranoid, in assuming that he had been granted the powers, and the memories, that she had been. After all, not everyone in this place seemed to remember. It had been a small collection of individuals. Some had been tormented by a past they didn’t want to remember. Others had regained powers of unbelievable capacity, and they were using them for less than peaceful means.
Largely, people were trying to escape this place. Return to the place from where they had been taken. Some sought revenge on those who had brought them here; those that had taken away their control over their own mind. The rest seemed to be waiting, hoping that something would make everything go back to the way it was before. When they were like blind sheep, bashfully following the shepherd wherever he might lead.
But not many in this place had others from their own existence. Zelda wasn’t sure if she should feel grateful or cursed to have not one, but two individuals of which she knew. Link was a comfort, if he was still here. Ganon would never be what she could call a comfort.
She had confined herself to her home for a day when this had all begun. To be quite honest, it had been too overwhelming to even attempt to leave. She’d been an easy target, and she could only be grateful that Dragmire had not taken advantage of her weakness. Though, she had no doubt that he had not been able to easily accept the return of his powers, either. Though he did not possess precognition or empathy, he was overwhelmingly powerful when drunk on the power of the Triforce. And in the faint memories of this place that lingered in her head, she knew he still had it. That scar, that he’d shown her once. The discussion they’d had, about how odd it was that they had such similar marks…
There was only so long before he found her.
She was not stupid. She knew that she could not stop the man on her own. She knew that for a fact, not only because of her own lack of ability at the current time, but because of the whisperings of past reincarnations and weary former existences in her head. At times her former selves seemed to be her only ally. They had been very quiet to her situation, as they had never left Hyrule. It was not something they understood. This world was not Harmony and beyond what they could comprehend. They couldn’t truly help her now. She could only hope to use what memories they gave her to give her strength and wisdom.
Link was the hero. As always, he was her only hope. Together, they had always had the power to defeat the dark lord. Apart, she was vulnerable. Link did not have the capacity to seal him away.
If Link’s memories had not returned, he would be just as vulnerable as she had been. If this was the case, she would have to protect him until the time that his memories were returned. Without him, there was no hope.
Leaving her home (it was odd, thinking of this small house as her home. The castle was her home, with its vast walls and wide rooms. This place was no comparison, yet a part of her was still reluctant to leave it behind) would be troublesome. Though the walls could not totally stifle the emotions of others, the heavy brick was some kind of buffer. Out in the open air, any stray emotion would quickly overcome her.
Not to mention her current appearance.
Whoever had brought her here had normalized her features. Her ears had been rounded off (Like a Gerudo. A slight amount of disgust crossed her features when she had to liken herself to the Gerudo King). Her skin dulled. Hair shortened. Eyes made more matte. But now those things had worn away, and there was no way to truly walk around unnoticed. Her current appearance would only cause more panic.
Her only choice was a scarf and a cloak -- both black, to help her hide in the darkness. Stealth was the only thing she could rely on because of her lack of abilities.
Nayru was with her, she could feel it, but even still, she could not access her power. It was like trying to grasp a silver strand in a raging storm. You couldn’t see what you were reaching for, and even with a flash of lightning, when your fingers closed around the space it should have been, it was never there. She almost had to wonder if it had ever been there in the first place. Though Nayru was defensive rather than offensive, some kind of protection would have soothed her nerves, at least a little.
She didn’t even have a bow and arrow to aide her. Though a whisper in her head had suggested she find a slim knife from the kitchen. She had no doubt it was from the version of her who had once lived as a pirate. Tetra was a much more abrasive and aggressive personality, but those qualities would have served her well in this situation.
Covering her face with the hood of the cloak, and wrapping the scarf securely about her throat, she had braved the outdoors.
It was dark, and movement was almost torturous. But there was a steady, heavy rain, which seemed to help interfere with the emotions of the populace distracting her every thought. Now that her memories had returned, she didn’t understand creations such as cars. She couldn’t possibly hope to navigate one now. It was hard to even move with the feelings of others pressing into her every thought, so she couldn’t really imagine attempting to work such a contraption at the same time. Every step she took was a thundering realization of all the emotions of every person in this place. The overwhelming fear. Hints of satisfaction, rage, and desire for something. Revenge?
Thankfully, nobody was wandering on the streets. As she walked she was able to steel herself slightly from the emotions all around her. However, her paranoia was something she could not escape, and her bright eyes constantly scanned around and behind her. A part of her wanted to be confident, that she would be able to sense his presence, if he truly was just behind her. Just barely hidden in the dark and the cold…
But another part of her was not so sure.
Where she had been living was not far where they had placed Link. In her memories of this strange new home, she had only come here once. They had been walking together, and he’d casually told her this was his home. She had been terribly excited to go indoors, and he had abashedly shown her. He hadn’t let her stay long, and she had assumed it was because of some embarrassment on his part. She couldn’t guess as to what or why.
She moved up the steps, looking up at the large door. She gingerly tried the knob, but it steeled fast. Locked. She paused, glancing behind her once more, before letting her eyes fluttered closed, ignoring the cold rain biting her skin.
Locked doors had always been something she was good at getting through. She sought the power to accomplish the feat, and then focused it through the door, sliding the bolt back. There was an audible thunk as it moved and cleared; triumphantly, the door opened. She opened it, slipped through the crack, and locked it once more behind her.
Her heartbeat was racing but she knew better than to stop now. She had to find him. And this was the only place she could guess as to where he would be.
She ventured through the rooms, trying to find him. But each and every room was as empty as the next. Normally she would have felt odd, walking around in a home that did not belong to her, but that was not something she had the time to concern herself with now. She was above invading personal property, especially now. She entered his bedroom, hopeful, but he wasn’t there. For a moment, she had grown optimistic at the blades stored on a rack, but after unsheathing a few, she was disheartened to find they were all for fencing. Useless, dulled blades that couldn’t even cut paper -- they would be completely useless against skin.
If she could find something that had a strong connection to him, perhaps she could locate him. Or even call to him and ask him return. There was nothing here that would accomplish such a feat, she could tell that just by being in the room. But perhaps –
The Ocarina. He said he played one here. If he truly had a connection to it, she could use it to find him.
But where would it be?
She moved out of the room, silently making her way back through the rooms. It had to be here… She couldn’t give up. A loud crack of thunder startled her, but she forced herself to keep moving. Searching in drawers, on tables, under furniture—
And then suddenly, she felt it. And her heart flew into her throat.
She could only hope she could find a way out. If only she hurried, perhaps she could escape. She moved to a window, but the second her palms hit the frame to push it open, there was a chuckle behind her.
“Enjoying the storm, Ms. von Nohannsen?” The voice mocked her, laced with amusement at her own expense. Her heart raced, as she tried to ascertain what the comment meant. A part of her prayed that he hadn’t regained memories, or powers, but that seemed like such a hopeless plea. Yet he was teasing her. In this place, Mr. Dragmire was her teacher. He teased her all the time.
She moved her hands from the window, turning around, clamping down the fear that wanted to overwhelm her. She was afraid of him, but she couldn’t let that control her. He didn’t look much different than normal – normal for here, anyway. His skin hadn’t taken on that disturbing color it had in her mind’s eye -- and even with him feet away from her, she couldn’t place if he had his powers or not.
“It’s really raging out there, isn’t it?” She asked conversationally. If he didn’t remember, she could play along and get away. Speaking in this human tongue, and in such informal words was odd, and felt awkward, but it didn’t echo in her voice. He smirked at her response, but she forced her heart to slow, a slight smile gracing her features.
Royalty had to learn to treat everyone as if they enjoyed their company. Whether they truly did or not was immaterial.
“Are you here looking for Link?” He asked, moving towards the large wooden table that barred his path to her. It was a dining table, and it cleaved the room in half. It was not much of a defense, but it was something, and she was glad to have it. He set a large box on the table, and curiosity panged at her, but she refused to focus on it.
“Actually, yes. I was worried about him, so I thought I would come and see how he was doing.” Hylian tempted to spill from her but she held it back. She couldn’t give herself away – or at the very least, she couldn’t give him a reason to doubt she was in the same position as him. If he thought she remembered something he didn’t, it could trigger his memories, and if it was avoidable, she would avoid it. “Is that why you are here, Mr. Dragmire?”
He chuckled, watching her much like a panther watches a rabbit writhing under its paw.
“No, my dear. I came to see you, of course. I wanted to give you this.” He tapped the box, languidly crossing his arms. “Why do you have that hood on indoors, Zelda? You ought take it down so you can see your present.”
She wanted to bolt, desperately, but there was no place to escape. The closest doorway was around the table, and he could catch her before she were to reach it. It felt like a disturbing game of cat and mouse, and more troubling yet, she was already trapped. She was silent for a moment. She shouldn’t have tried to imagine that he was exempt. In that time, he had closed the distance and made any chance of her getting away from him much smaller.
And now he wanted her to remove her hood.
When she didn’t say anything, his tone changed.
“Take off the hood. And open your present.” His eyes flashed, indicating he was no longer requesting. It wasn’t a game to him, as in they both had equal ability to play it. He was playing with her, no mistake could be made. Evenly, she watched him as she reached up and pulled the hood down. Her ears were mostly covered by her hair, and in the darkness, he couldn’t really see her that well, anyway. He must have noticed that as she thought it, as he (without taking his eyes off of her) reached behind him and flicked on a lightswitch.
She looked down, feeling completely exposed even though she was entirely covered. The way he looked at her wasn’t helping.
“You look lovely today, Zelda,” He said with a chuckle. The cords in her neck tightened but she said nothing. “But you are so quiet. Aren’t you going to open that present I brought for you? Honestly, you’re acting decidedly unfriendly today, my dear. After I went through all that trouble, I’d really like you to open it.”
His tone was sweet, but at the last sentence, it turned into a dark growl. She hated to have to blindly follow his orders, but she knew defiance wouldn’t help her any more. If anything, she had to delay him. If she could do that long enough, perhaps Link would find them. For a second, she closed her eyes.
Link. Please. Wherever you are, help me—
Suddenly, there was a tight grip on her arm. He had reached across the table for her, and had twisted it uncomfortably. She gave a stifled gasp at the sharp shock of pain.
“None of that, Princess. Just you and me … isn’t that how you want our conversation? It’s so hard to talk civilly with another party. Now, open your gift, if you would.” He let go of her suddenly, and she shrank away from him, to a distance that he couldn’t touch her. She was still silent, but her eyes fell to the box in front of her.
What in the world could he want her to see so insistently?
Her fingers moved to the lid, and a dark chuckle escaped him. A faint feeling of anger touched her, that he was toying with her, but nonetheless she removed the lid. There were blue, unblinking eyes that stared back at her, and she had to look away.
Apparently William had not been able to make it through an encounter with the man who had been his friend in this place. Her heart burned, not only because of the cruelty to kill a man that trusted you, or that believed you to have no ill will. But because this meant someone she (or the girl she had been here) had loved. However foolish advised that love was. Separated from the situation, she knew quite well that William Birkin had not loved her, not in the way she had been desperate for. But the girl she was in this place was not Princess Zelda, holder of the Triforce of Wisdom. She was simply a girl, a girl desperate to have the love of a man she had never been able to forget.
The tears that burned at her eyes revealed a weakness she didn’t want him to see. No matter how cool and distant she tried to seem, to have to witness a severed head of a man she still loved … it was cruel. An act simply to disarm and humiliate her. Make her feel the sadness of loss.
And it had worked.
“Do you like it?” His voice asked, laughing at her. “I’ve got another one, if you’d like. Your dearest brother. Would you like to see?” She said nothing, and he laughed again, voice dark and overpowering.
“You’re disgusting,” She spat instead of responding, putting the lid back on the box. She couldn’t see that face, those unblinking eyes, that stain of red of bright blood in the white fabric the head laid on. These people were not truly attached to her. She shouldn’t allow herself the pain news of their death – no, not death. Murder -- had brought her.
“Is that anything to say to a man who just brought you two gifts, princess? Honestly, do they teach supposed royals any manners anymore?” He skirted around the table, probably attempting to close the distance between them again, but that only gave her an opening to bolt. A dark curse followed her escape, and it was clearly not in English. However, she didn’t speak much Gerudo, but the tone it was spoken in clearly told her it was not something she would want to hear translated.
Her head was spinning, desperate to get to the front door, an escape. She could feel the lock in the setting before she even reached it, but it was much more difficult to unlock something while moving. Nonetheless, she closed her eyes, focusing, as her feet propelled her toward it.
Her hand twisted the doorknob, but before she could open it, dark purple covered the surface. A human lock she could open quickly. This was something else entirely. She didn’t even make the attempt, attempting to run again, before his hand caught her elbow, dragging her forcibly away.
“You really ought not do that, Zelda,” He chastised, anger rolling off of him in sheets. It almost burned her to be close to him, but the desperate tug to get away from him was ignored. Much like a soft breeze trying to blow a heavy anchor away. Impossible. She didn’t care, struggling anyway, but his grip was like iron, binding her to the spot, tightening into her skin until she made a slight mew of pain.
“You can’t fight me, Zelda. You realize that, don’t you?” A dark smile crossed his smug features, as a hand let go of one arm to tilt her chin up, so she had to look at him. Desperate to disobey, she looked away, which only earned her a sharp slap. She swallowed the whimper of pain as he wrenched her chin back up. “You will obey me, Zelda, do you understand? It’s so much easier for both of us when you obey. Don’t you remember?”
His hand dropped from her chin to her chest, hovering over her heart. Her chest was heaving in a combination of her fear and running from him, and the touch of his bare hand only disturbed her further. She attempted to slap his hand away, but this only made him circle an arm around both of hers and pin them behind her back, pressing her against him and leaving her almost powerless to movement.
He laughed at her desperate attempts, easily returning his hand to where it had been before.
“Lovely. Look at your heart racing. Could it be that I’ve inspired less than pure thoughts in you, my dear? Isn’t that what makes a heart thunder like this?” She squirmed, but unsurprisingly couldn’t move.
“You will never inspire that in me. You are vile. A pig.” She spat, slipping into Hylian. Unlike her inability to understand him when he spoke in Gerudo, he would clearly be able to understand her speaking in Hylian. After all, he had once been her father’s advisor, and an emissary from the desert. He had to be able to communicate. He could understand her every word in whatever language she chose to speak.
“Never?” He chuckled at this, and she despised his laugh. All he had done was laugh at her, as if she were some kind of joke. He ignored her squirming, large fingers brushing against her cold skin, finding the clasp to her cloak and unpinning it, causing it to puddle around their feet.
“Stop,” she ordered, a tinge of fear creeping into her voice, but he ignored her, fingers tracing across the exposed skin above what was hidden by the fabric of her dress. She struggled more, but it only managed to hurt her rather than help her inch closer to freedom. There was a warm wet touch at her temple, and she had to assume it was her mouth. Her heartbeat continued to flutter rapidly, and she closed her eyes, forcing some kind of power outwards.
There was a bright blue flash, sending Ganon flying back into a wall. It hadn’t lasted very long, but for a short moment, the bright blue glow of Nayru’s protection had surrounded her. Zelda didn’t wait around for it to stop working, instead bolting once more.
She knew better than to venture upstairs. Her best bet now was a window. If she threw herself at one, she would land outside. Outside, she’d have a better chance of getting away. On the first floor, the landing would hurt. But the second floor, a landing could seriously injure her. Desperately, she tried calling for Link, begging for him to come help her; but as always, when she truly needed him, she couldn’t find him.
The house was not large, and she slipped as silently as she could manage into one of the bedrooms. This one had a larger window, and without giving herself a moment to be afraid of the pain—
Suddenly, her movement stopped, and she realized she hadn’t been able to move fast enough. The magic he used to hold her aloft was effective; though he had yet to enter the room after her, she was pinned, unable to move. Her back connected with a wall, roughly, and she gasped as the air was knocked harshly from her lungs. The loud, intimidating footsteps followed her into the bedroom. Ganon no longer looked amused. He looked angry.
“Why must you keep fighting, Zelda? It is quite useless. You are just as pathetic as you have always been,” He sneered, this time keeping his distance. She could see burns on his arms from the barrier that had deterred him, but somehow it wasn’t enough to make her feel better. “You cannot win.”
Unable to even move, Zelda was unable to struggle. She stared him down with a determination that couldn’t be explained for someone in her position.
“No, Ganon, it is you that cannot win. You are pathetic. Forever struggling for a power that you can never have. Do you enjoy being bitterly defeated every single attempt, or do you actually believe you have a chance?” Her words were acidic, and she hated to be spiteful, even to this man, but her hatred wouldn’t be contained.
His anger sparked again, and he looked tempted to hit her once more, but he had perhaps thought better of touching her, considering that she was pinned with arms she couldn’t see. At the same time, she wasn’t sure she could replicate the magic that repelled him. If he were to try to touch her again, she probably wouldn’t be able to remove him.
“Fastidious girl,” he said, voice a snarl. “That was only in Hyrule, do you not see? Here I have a freedom I never had there. The goddesses hated me, and tried to work against me. They undermined me at every turn. Even Mother Din would not accept me. But here, they have no power. They cannot constrain me. I am that sliver of a deity here. And now I have you—“
“You idiot. What good does that do you? What kingdom do you hope to take from me?” She spat out, trying to distract him. Ganon was terrible at catching bait when he felt superior, and revealing more than he should. He frowned at being interrupted, apparently enough to tighten the grip of whatever was holding her, causing a sharp pain all over her body, like she was being compressed. She couldn’t help a gasp as the pain arched across her nerves, which only caused him to chortle at her.
“Watch your mouth, princess. Especially when I have all the power, and you have so little.” She winced as the pressure lessened, slightly, but she wasn’t able to do much more than give him a dark look. He took a step forward, seeming to toy with her once more. His eyes burned almost as much as his touch, but she forced herself to watch him. The power holding her up seemed to lessen, and she slid down the wall to the floor, once again able to move of her own accord. Her spine straightened and her arms crossed, but the showing of arrogance was hard to accept. In her position, it was hard to exude power. “Is this kingdom not just as good as the next? Certainly, the people are different, and the technology has changed, but I can control it just as easily. And how are you so sure that we will never be able to return, Zelda? Once I have the complete Triforce, I will most certainly have the power to do just as I please.”
He was far too close to her again, but she had no way to escape. But as his words sunk into her, she felt her expression shift from anger to pity. After all his existences, all of his lives, it seemed that his memory had faded. The subconscious pasts in his head could no longer point to his ultimate goal. What he had wanted in the first place. The desire to rule everything he saw now trumped his desire to be the salvation of his people. Could he even remember that had been his intention at the very beginning? To save the name and the dignity of his desert dwelling people? To save them from extinction?
Or was all he could remember that he wanted to rule Hyrule, to control the Triforce, and be the most powerful?
“You are a pitiful man,” She said, anger that was in her tone when she had said it previously faded, pity the only thing that remained. He didn’t say anything, running his hand across her bare leg.
“I must say, princess, I have never seen you in such strange attire. The clothing these people wear is so particularly absurd, do you not agree?” She swallowed heavily at his touch. She had tried to locate the most modest of clothing in her closet but the longest skirt available had hit just below the knee. His hand traced the outline of her leg torturously slowly, and she forced herself to look away.
“I never thought I would see you in anything but those constraining dresses you always wear. Long skirts, long gloves… Why do you insist on such modesty? My family would never wear such attire. I must confess I have always wondered how you would look in customary Gerudo attire. You might be too pale, but I have no doubt that could be remedied…”
“Stop touching me,” She said harshly, but he paid her no mind, and the fabric of the silk skirt pooling artfully as one side rose higher and the other didn’t move at all. Her jaw clenched at her inability to impede him.
“I have always fancied keeping you as my royal pet, Zelda. Every incarnation of you is quite beautiful. I have always wondered how long it would take me to make you fully submit. You are terribly willful, aren’t you?” She glared at him as his fingers touched the lace of her underwear, anger seeping out of her, yet she said nothing. His spare hand hooked under her chin, forcing her to look up. The glint of his large white teeth disturbed her. “You may not know this about me, my dear, but I am quite the accomplished rider. I even created a range so I could practice my archery when I was younger. It is one of my true joys to find a spoiled, naïve, aggressive horse.”
His touch tormented her, and though her heartbeat was thundering in her ears, she couldn’t move. Why was he doing this to her? What motivation could he possibly have? He seemed completely uninterested in the utter hatred reflected in her features, and instead continued. “A truly wild horse is a beautiful thing. They run with a grace and a joy that cannot be paralleled. And once you find one, all you need do is break them. Train them, trample their pride, until they are as gentle as mice. No will of their own, subservient to your every need.” He grinned, as he often did if he thought he was saying something clever, pointing out, “They will even let you ride them until they die.”
Her nose wrinkled as she realized why he thought this was clever. If she was the horse in this metaphor, he would be ‘riding’ her. That was a sexual term in this place. For a long moment, he was silent, watching her features. “Can you not see it has already started? You are no longer fighting because you know you cannot resist. Soon, you will be just like those bad-tempered horses. You may think you can fight me now, but even the most willful and stubborn of horse can be tamed…”
His hot breath across her skin repulsed her, as his lips inched closer. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the inevitable, but he pushed her heavily into the wall, jolting them open once more.
“You can be tamed, Zelda,” He promised her, heavy grin on his face that she desperately wished to wipe off. “Fight if you like, I have all the time in the world. Eventually you will be broken. I’ll enjoy seeing you try to resist. I expect you to fight for a long while. But this is a fight you cannot win.”
“Never,” She hissed at him, shoving at him uselessly. He laughed at her attempt, using her momentum to force her closer to him. The hand at her hip slipped around her waist, and her skirt dropped back without the force holding it up, though the silk had wrinkled from the mistreatment. She dug her nails into whatever she could reach, but he continued to laugh at her meager attempts.
And then his mouth was on hers.
She writhed against him, kicking, kneeing, and even biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood. The sharp metallic taste hit her senses quickly. He merely grunted, slamming her against the wall again, enough to make everything spin for a moment as her head had bounced soundly off the brick. The hand that had once been at her chin brushed at her shirt, trying to remove the buttons.
She screamed, uselessly, mind spinning as she tried to think of something. Focus. Find some magic. Repel him, just once more, and she could get away…
He gave a cry of pain and suddenly he was gone, and she slid to the floor quickly. His blood suddenly coated the floor, and for a moment, she was too shocked to really say anything. She looked up, noting a large blade in his shoulder before he tore it out.
“It was only a matter of time before you showed up, you little brat,” He said, that unnerving smile back on his features. “Here to save your princess, fairy boy? “ Link stood in the doorway, silent. He wasn’t even wearing green, that color with which she always associated him… He said nothing, just levelly watching Ganon. He didn’t seem to have a sword, or anything with which to defend himself—
The Master Sword. How in the world could they stop Ganon without it? Her mind whirled as she tried to think. Could she summon it? Call it from Hyrule, to wherever this existence was? Frankly, she had no clue, and she had no way in which to learn. Her tomes, her books, they were all in the castle, not here.
A tight grip grabbed her wrist, twisting her upwards, holding her tight to his side to keep her from escaping. Link had given her a chance and she’d been too stunned to use it. The knife stained dark with his own blood was brandished toward the hero, as if to ask, “This is all you had to use against me?”
“I would tell you to leave, Link. To give up now. But I know from experience that you won’t. You are an unfortunate pest, you know that? Every time you die, you always come back. Nonetheless, I will kill you as many times as I need to.” Link said nothing, gaze shifting to her for a long moment. She didn’t know what she could do, and she shoved at Ganon desperately. Distracted, his grip moved to her hair, and she took advantage of his shifted body to shove at him with whatever strength she had left. It was only enough to knock him slightly to the side, a sound of annoyance as he grunted at the movement.
“Run! Please, run!” The words escaped from her in Hylian, as her gesture had only been an attempt to give Link more time to escape. Unfortunately, it only earned her another smack from the man still holding onto her. When she could see straight, Link was gone from the doorway, and all she could see was Ganon staring back at her.
“You are an impish little girl, aren’t you?” He snarled at her, dropping her heavily to the floor. As he walked towards the doorway Link had left, she could see dark purple materialize at both of the windows to keep her from escaping. The door slammed shut behind him, and she heard it lock after he left. Despite the pain that echoed in every part of her body, she scrambled to the door. She placed her hands on it, knowing that she could unlock it. He hadn’t set a barrier on it like he had the windows, which was foolish of him. She could open doors so very easily. Her mind was unfocused, worry clouding her abilities, so unlocking it was not as simple as she would have hoped. The action weighed on her, as if she was running out of power, even to perform such a simple task.
The distracting sounds of whatever was going on outside the door (slams, crackles of magic and fire, shouts and that dark laughter) certainly didn’t help matters. But she was able to open the lock, and she quickly opened the door.
The dark hallway did nothing to tell her of their location, but she didn’t pause, trying to sense them as she moved. There was a sharp shout, and she hurried after it. There were scars across the walls, marks of … fireballs, perhaps? She didn’t pay them any mind, following the projected place of the shout and out the door.
It was dark outside, and the rain still pounded the earth, but she could see a figure on the ground. Her heart tore, and though she should have been more concerned with escaping, she ran to it.
“No… Why?” She gathered the boy in her arms, horrified by the gaping hole in his chest. Ganon had not pulled any punches, and this was a place where Link could not reach the blessing of a fairy or a potion to keep his wounds at bay. Tears ran down her face but they were impossible to detect in the rain. Quivering fingers hovered above the wound, and she willed her power to heal it. Nayru ignored her pleas. She had never been an outstanding healer to begin with, of course, but a part of her had wished so desperately that Nayru had answered her.
She had not.
“Princess,” He gasped, voice dry.
“You mustn’t talk, Link,” She said. Their words were in Hylian, as was so natural to them, and at the same time so foreign. “Please stay strong, understand? Please, just stay strong.”
He smiled, as if he could tell how useless their situation was. He reached out to touch her cheek, the pain he no doubt felt not registering on his features.
“At least … I got to see you, Princess. I just … could not stop … him.” Her lips quivered as she shook her head, brushing his hair from his face. She realized, abruptly, that she couldn’t see the point of his ears peeking through his hair.
He … Fayore’s power had not returned to him.
He’d gone against Ganon without any powers to speak of.
His foolish actions tore at her. She had guessed that, yet she had hoped it not to be so. Why could Ganon harness his powers so fully, when Link could not access his at all? He was clearly not lacking in courage. Why, then? Why had he been abandoned in this time of need?
“Link, you must stop talking. Please save your strength.” She held him as close as she could without putting him in pain, leaning over him. Her power was so pointless, when she could not even help one person. Her empathy had dulled enough that she could focus, or perhaps her own sorrow had overwhelmed all the emotions of the others around her.
“It is … too late now, Princess. You … you must get away. Before he realizes … you have escaped.” Link smiled, weakly, red of his own blood staining his teeth.
“No. I will not leave you.” She vowed, pressing her forehead to his.
He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak but no words came from him. Instead he coughed, breathing significantly more labored than it was before.
“Link, no. You ... I am incapable of stopping him on my own. Please, you must stay with me.” He didn’t say anything, eyes closing, and a sob escaped her. “Why? Why did you have to go after him? You could not have hindered him, either. You should have known. He … he would not kill me. As long as I am alive, I would have helped you. Why were you so foolish? Why?”
Link didn’t speak. His breathing was distant, labored. She forced herself to calm, placing a hand to his forehead.
“Rest, Link. Find peace.” Her words were soft, but she hoped that they had reached him before he breathed his last. She was silent, as any hope she had been able to maintain drained from her. Without Link, she had no chance. Now that Ganon had killed him, they had no hope of defeating him. She didn’t have the power now to stop him and even if her powers were to return, it would not be enough.
She could feel her willpower washing away, just like the blood was washed away by the rain. She held his lifeless body, uncaring if Ganon returned. There was nothing for her now. There was no hope.
There was a sharp sound that startled her, jolting her from her thoughts. And it repeated, again, and again. Her eyes narrowed, and she could see someone. …Clapping?
But it wasn’t Dragmire. It was a woman, with pale white skin, and very dark hair. She could see the faint ethereal quality to the woman’s features. The bright wide eyes. The glow to her skin, despite the dark and the rain.
An … elf?
Certainly not a Hylian. There was something disconcerting about her persona, but Zelda couldn’t place who she was.
“Who are you?” the words fell from her mouth, still Hylian.
“Sorry, I don’t speak whatever gibberish you are speaking,” The woman drawled lazily, shrugging her thin shoulders as she finally slowed her demeaning, cloying clap. “You will have to speak this common tongue just like I must. Torturous for the ears though it is.”
Zelda blinked. Now that the memory of both languages battled in her head, speaking in one or the other was more difficult than she could have imagined.
“Who … who are you?” She repeated, the sound of these English words feeling heavy on her tongue. The woman smiled, walking closer.
“That is not important, is it? I must say, I am … disappointed. That boy is supposed to be some amazing vengeful hero, is he not? It took very little to kill him. Just a few blows, and Albert had him on the floor. It would be amusing if it were not so … pathetic.” The woman smiled, just like a cat that had finally caught her prey, and was toying with it.
Observant to every last flicker of fear, and the expressions of bitter hopelessness.
“Do not speak of him that way,” Zelda said desperately, glad that he was past hearing the dark haired woman’s malicious words. He’d had no chance, and yet he had still come. If only to protect her one last time… “Who are you? What do you mean … Albert? I do not understand.”
The woman cleared the distance between them, kneeling next to the body Zelda was still so desperately clinging to. The woman laughed, admiring the wound, thin fingers fishing through it for a moment. As if it were a fun sandbox to play in. An expression of disgust crossed Zelda’s features, but she was too startled to react before the woman pulled her fingers out, the bright red stark against her pale skin.
“He wasn’t getting up after that one, was he?” She laughed again, standing up. “I thought you were supposed to be of my kind. Or at least … similar. You disappoint me.” Zelda didn’t know what to say, gingerly setting Link back down on the ground. Though his blood was all over her, there was no saving him now. She gingerly rose to her feet, unsure how to react to this woman. Zelda had already guessed that the woman was inhuman. This was only confirmation of the fact. From this distance, it was painfully obvious. From her head to her toes, there was no mistaking it.
“You… I do not know who you are, but we must not linger here. Ganondorf has his power, and he will not hesitate to harm you.” This woman watched her broadly for a moment, before laughing again.
“I had forgotten that you were so dedicated to the wellbeing of others. ‘Self-sacrificial’. They wrote that in the file about you.” For a moment, the woman had a very convincing look of fear on her face. “Harm me? Oh dearest me! Whatever shall I do?” She laughed again, her act of malicious mocking apparently too amusing to keep it up. “Do not fear. Albert has him under control, little girl. You are so docile, you will be easy to contain. Just come sit with me, dear, do not let yourself be alarmed any more. I shall take care of you.”
Zelda took a step back, unsure what to make of this woman. No, she didn’t seem trustworthy, and the faint hum of Nayru’s protection buzzed in her ears. The woman’s eyes narrowed.
“So you do have some kind of magic at your disposal, don’t you? What manner of elemental is this? How do you summon it so?” The woman reached out as if curious, fingers grazing the small barrier. She frowned at her fingertips, as if she wasn’t expecting it to burn or be painful. There were dark mars of a burn across her pale fingertips, and a slight expression of annoyance crossed her features.
There was a loud thump, and Zelda glanced to the source of the noise. A muffled scream from her throat was contained, but just barely, as she saw what … seemed to be the remains of Dragmire (cut rather mercilessly in two pieces. But how in the world could that have been achieved?) dropped carelessly on the ground. A blonde man had been the one to drop them, and his expression looked mildly aggravated as he looked at a broken pair of sunglasses.
Like a butterfly, the woman flitted towards him.
“Albert, your efficiency once more must be commended,” the woman purred, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. The man coldly brushed it off.
“And your lack thereof once more proves frustrating,” He said, levelly staring her down. Zelda’s heart hammered as she could sense this man was just as powerful as Dragmire, though perhaps in a different way. It was … not magic. But there was certainly something. She couldn’t tell what.
She took a precarious step back.
“Albert, I was just playing with her. She is docile at best. You never let me have any fun.” The woman was pouting, but Zelda had to wonder how real any of her actions were, after seeing her deception proven to her so quickly.
“Cymoril, that is beyond the point. She was supposed to be neutralized. She doesn’t seem to be.” The man pointed out, sounding … bored.
Zelda was frightened by the lack of emotion and common decency set before her. She didn’t know who they were, besides the names they used when talking to each other, and she didn’t want to know. She took two more steps back, before turning. Her steps were silent but quick, and she disappeared into the dark as quickly as she could manage.
“Oh! Albert, look. She’s trying to run.” The woman laughed; lilting and joyful.
“She won’t get far,” returned the man, for once sounding just as amused as the woman next to him.