Chapter 1
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Dust and sand sparkled like glitter in the sunlight bleeding into the single room home, whose lumber roof and walls were torn apart by a recent sandstorm. The sun glared on the brown face of a woman with beauty inspired by a goddess. Her braided hair, too red to be orange and too orange to be red, was disheveled from inadequate sleep. The muscular woman rolled to her right side, ignoring the rapping on the decrepit door. She tossed her arm over her eyes to block out the light and linger in sleep for a minute longer. Every bone was aching and every muscle throbbed, especially the freshly healed wound in her abdomen.
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“You never change,” mumbled a deep and arrogant voice. “Wake up, Dora.”
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The Gerudo woman lurched straight into a sitting position at hearing the man’s voice. Her yellow eyes, sparkling with gold, darted around the room to check for intruders. Not a soul was to be found.
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“You still fight my battles, even in your sleep.”
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A soul did exist there, her husband’s soul housed in her body. His unique voice resonated in her mind as she rubbed her hands across her dirt coated face and emitted a miserable groan. The events of their last battle rushed to the forefront of her mind from her groggy memory. The Triforce, Ganon, Link, and the Master Sword impaled in her stomach. Dora twisted her legs over the edge of the flat, hard bed and leaned over with her fingers buried in her long, unkempt hair. “Without you here I’m fortunate enough to have any sleep at all. Your snoring might not awaken me now, but my nights are more restless than ever,” Dora confessed grumpily. The howl of the wind piercing the cracks in the structure filled the following silence. She said, “There’s no need to find a way to apologize. My statement was unwarranted. It’s certainly not your fault you haven’t shared your bed with me anytime recently.”
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“It’s time we rectify that,” he said with new ambition. “First, we need to recruit some warriors,” he added almost knowingly.
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Knock, knock, knock.
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Dora’s head jerked up and she scowled at the door where the sharp sound originated.
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“Queen Ganondora,” called a gruff voice.
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She stood fluidly from the bed and strolled to the door, the heel of her worn boots clacking on the wooden floor. The queen unraveled the braid in her hair and ran her slender fingers through it to shake out the dust in an attempt to be presentable for her uninvited guest. She ripped the door open and gasped in amazement. A man decorated in metal armor stood before her. His most defining adornment was his silver helmet crafted in the shape of a dragon’s skull with horns, stunning turquoise eyes, and a tail of hair that began as red as his layered armor and ended in yellow. His eyes were partially covered in shadow by the helmet and in part painted black, making them difficult to detect. His skin was pale and the pointed beard on his chin blonde. Dora only conversed with this man twice during the war and never expected to see him after their heartfelt goodbye. “Volga?”
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The dragon knight shifted his right hand holding a spear behind his back, the other flat across his torso, and respectfully bowed at his waist. “Your majesty, it is an honor to fight for you,” he pledged.
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Dora gradually recovered from shock, which allowed her lungs to accept air, and she noticed a handful of Gerudo women standing behind Volga with concerned expressions. “How long have I been asleep?” she inquired.
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“Lord Ganon was defeated two nights ago. I have gathered a few warriors to help fight for the return of a proper King and Queen to the throne of Hyrule,” Volga informed plainly.
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Dora forced another breath through her body that lifted her chest slightly. “I’ve been out for a day and a half,” she exclaimed. Her outfit was the same tattered armor from the final battle, in which Lana, Link, and Zelda used the Triforce to defeat the dark beast, Ganon. Dora’s eyes shifted from her torn arm bracers, to the ground, and back to Volga.
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“You were fatally wounded. It’s a miracle that you are still alive,” he pointed out. Dora nodded to vaguely agree. Rather than invite Volga and the Gerudo into the ragged house, she stepped outside and closed the door.
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“Your majesty, we have brought a basket of food from the market, along with a few bottles of water,” a Gerudo with faded red hair boldly announced and stepped forward. She offered a woven basket filled to the brim with a variety of fresh foods from the marketplace of Hyrule. Dora chose a heavily seasoned bread loaf and a bottle of water.
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“How can I trust you?” she asked harshly, before inserting the bread in her mouth to tear away a bite.
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Another Gerudo, with skin paler than average, spoke up next. “We have always been loyal to the Demon King. We only lived in Hyrule to escape the desert while we awaited his return. None of us stood with Hyrule’s army once we learned Cia was being controlled by Ganondorf. We worked to dismantle them from the inside, but this time we want to fight at your side.”
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Dora inspected the woman’s dark eyes, watched her hands, and listened for subtle inflections as she spoke. In her life experience, Dora had learned to search for hints of dishonesty, or even judge a person’s intent, but all she read was sincerity. “I appreciate your loyalty.”
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“Queen Ganondora, what happened to our king when the Triforce was used to defeat the beast?” Volga wondered.
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“Ganondorf reverted to the form of a spirit and has taken refuge in my body,” she divulged to her new subordinates, and then ate another bite of soft bread.
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Volga’s eyes widened, revealing traces of their icey blue color. “Cia could barely handle three fragments of his powerful spirit, let alone all of it as a whole. Yet, you stand here as if nothing has changed.”
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Dora grinned with immense satisfaction, finding pride in this feat that Cia could have never managed to accomplish. “There are reasons why I’ve held the title Queen of Evil for this long,” she remarked with conceit. The queen returned the bread to the basket being held by the Gerudo, and then gripped the cork of the bottle to twist it back and forth until it came free with a pop. She poured water into the palm of her hand and splashed her face to erase the dirt smudged on her cheeks. “We must make obtaining the Triforce of Power our primary goal,” she directed, and waited for useful information from the team.
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“Why take the Triforce of Power when all of it is yours for the taking?” Volga suggested with a sick grin.
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The evil queen hurried to swallow a gulp of water and stressed her throat, making her voice strained when she asked, “The Triforce is complete?”
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“Yes,” Volga said with caution, “heavily guarded by royal knights, including Link, a few Sheikah, and Zelda.”
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“And the Master Sword?” she questioned with a growl creeping up her throat.
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“Still being wielded by the hero,” the first Gerudo informed, eager to assist.
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“Curses,” Dora swore under her breath as she corked the empty bottle.
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“With my spirit residing in your body, you’ll be more susceptible to the effects of the Master Sword. You must take more time to recover from your wounds,” Ganondorf said to guide his queen.
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“Is he speaking to you, your majesty?” Volga asked, noticing her suddenly distant expression. Dora only nodded to answer.
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“We need to do that which you hate the most,” Ganondorf advised.
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Reluctantly, the queen relayed her king’s command. “We must not act too soon,” she said with a disheartened sigh. “First, we will form a strong plan to infiltrate the castle, and once more perform the ultimate heist. Ganondorf and I are still recovering. We suffered terribly by the blade of evil’s bane and the Triforce. Volga, you will test the strength of these warriors until the time has come to act. Perhaps this will give Zelda enough time to relax and return the Master Sword to its pedestal.”
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“I understand, your majesty,” Volga acknowledged formally. “It is important to also inform you that Impa is leading a troop of knights that are hunting you, to arrest you and bring you before Princess Zelda. Apparently, she saw you escape and then disappear.”
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Dora clenched her fist, anger igniting her yellow eyes. “I will murder my enemies,” she declared, itching to shed their blood. “In due time,” she reminded herself. “We have a few obstacles in our way, but most importantly we cannot be discovered.”
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“If I may, I have a bold suggestion,” the dragon knight added. “When you are prepared to challenge the kingdom of Hyrule, you might allow Impa to arrest you.”
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The queen’s eyes widened in shock. As she opened her mouth to protest, Ganondorf interrupted. “We will discuss it in private, but for now we must remain open to the idea. This could be our only opportunity to deceive our enemies and easily snatch the Triforce from them.”
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Instead of arguing, Dora irritably said, “Ganondorf agrees. We can explore other options, but that may be our only strategy. An attack will be arranged that requires all of us once I am captured and taken to the castle’s court.”
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“You have learned much from me. Now, where should we go to lie in wait for our time to strike?” he quizzed.
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Dora reached to finally accept the basket from the Gerudo and advised, “Volga, when you are satisfied with their skill, seek me out in the Valley of Seers. I will be waiting.”
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Chapter 2
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Dora traversed the dunes, and strayed from the rippling sand that revealed a lurking Molduga, to leave the desert behind. Wandering from home, not knowing when she may return, was always emotional and difficult. The Gerudo Desert, from the valley to the wastelands, was a hazardous environment to be raised, but that was how the Gerudo women learned to be strong, and in their culture only the strong survived.
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And the stealthiest. Part of growing up Gerudo was learning to steal everything from water, to weapons, and even medicine. Dora always returned to these roots when she was left alone with nothing but the clothes on her back. Most of her trek was taken at a slow pace, avoiding the main roads so no one would discover her. She preferred to prevent engaging in battle because of her healing abdomen. Along Dora’s path to the Valley of Seers, she came across a bustling trader’s post. No walls protected the group of shops with only a few guards to keep watch for criminals. The Gerudo queen turned to see the sun would soon sink beyond the highlands in the west, giving her a prime opportunity to find replacement armor and refill her food supply. Dora rested at the base of a tree on the crest of a hill a fair distance from the market. There was something nostalgic about planning to steal someone else’s belongings that led her to quietly indulge in the memories of her raiding days, while waiting for the moon and stars to illuminate the darkening sky. Night settled over the land, when the shops closed and the owners retired or spent their hard earned money at the tavern, leaving her with a trove of unlimited choices.
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“The amount of pleasure you find in this is disturbing,” Ganondorf remarked as Dora quietly approached the sleeping marketplace.
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“This is far too easy,” she whispered, poking her head around the front of a building. Four guards patrolled the shops, not nearly enough for the amount of goods ready for the taking by bandits. “You never shared in the thrill of a raid, narrowly avoiding capture, racing against time to dodge the guards. It was fun.”
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“You must not make your presence known,” he scolded, sensing her yearning to announce herself by entering the busy tavern.
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“You really are no fun,” Dora pouted, creeping in through the window of the armor shop. “Please? Zelda already knows I’m alive. This will just be a minor distraction so they don’t follow me to the Valley of Seers,” she pleaded quietly.
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Ganondorf contemplated the outcomes and possibilities, while Dora browsed the armor hanging on the racks and walls for display.
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“And, if it makes you feel better, I’ll try not to kill that many people, only the ones that deserve it,” she promised.
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His evil, rich laughter echoed in her head, filling her heart with warmth to fend off the night’s subtle chill. “Have your fun tonight, my queen,” he relented, a grin in his voice.
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Ecstatic, Dora quickly chose new armor by taking pieces from different sets to match her fit and style. She found a set of metal greaves to tie over her new, tall leather boots, and arm bracers to strap over her gloves. Tying up the back of the studded leather armor was the most difficult part to do on her own. Finally, equipped with fresh armor and her trusted scimitar, she filled her bottles with water from the well and sauntered toward the tavern’s threshold.
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The Queen of Evil stepped inside and walked down the center aisle between all the tables, with the counter at the back as her destination. Her yellow eyes focused on the grain of the wooden floor just in front of each footstep. A hush cascaded over the crowd, like the ripple of a stone breaking the smooth surface of a pond.
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“I heard she was on the loose,” one of the patrons whispered, but Dora was tuned in on them all. She fought a chuckle.
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“What is she doing here?” asked someone indignantly.
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“Hey, is that armor from my shop?” the armorsmith hissed.
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A few of the guests slid back their chairs and escaped the tavern in a hurry. This stunned silence and the collective air of shock brought a wide, evil grin to Dora’s face.
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“Is that the Queen of Evil?”
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“Hush, she will hear you.”
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“Shouldn’t someone alert the guards?”
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This invisible power she commanded was gained through her timeless infamy. The sensation tingling through her veins, amplified by their fear, was exhilarating, a feeling she had dearly missed. Dora shifted her eyes up to the Hylian man behind the counter where she placed the basket. As a show of good faith, she opened a hand over the bar to reveal a palm full of red rupees. “As much food as this will buy,” she requested, breaking the silence.
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“Where did you get those rupees?” he hoarsely demanded.
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“Here and there,” she replied with a shrug. Her challenging gaze locked on his brown eyes. “Truly, I’m insulted that you would dare imply I didn’t earn them,” she said with false pleasantry.
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“Because I know you stole them,” he accused. Dora laughed, but he continued angrily. “Leave! We don’t accept stolen rupees.”
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Her laughter faded as she tilted her hand to let all but one red rupee slide off and clatter on the countertop. The final one she maneuvered elegantly between her index and middle finger. “I think you fail to understand the predicament you’re in, wench,” she mocked, her tone losing kindness. The queen tapped the rupee gently to the amber gem centered in the silver crown gracing her forehead, as if to remind the man of her title. “Either you accept my rare act of generosity to pay for the food I need, or I start killing people until you give me the food for free.”
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“Oh, Dora,” Ganondorf chuckled, entertained.
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She smiled wickedly as the Hylian weighed his options. There was no questioning whether the queen was sincere, because he knew the lives of a few innocent people meant nothing to her. “And all you need is food? And then you’ll leave?”
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“I swear by the Goddess of the Sand herself.”
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He stood firmly, his expression tormented by confliction. Dora impatiently awaited his decision. He scooped up the rupees into his hand, while glaring at the Gerudo, and then tossed them over hand to return them to those visiting the tavern. “Your goddess means nothing to us in Hyrule, and we will not serve the Queen of Evil. Even if you were dying on my doorstep, I would slam and lock my door to let you die, which is better than you deserve. After all the pain and suffering you’ve caused…”
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Before the man could finish spewing the vile words from his lips, Dora stepped swiftly from the floor to a stool, to the counter, and smashed her armored leg into his face. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, she was hunched over to dodge the ceiling. The tavern’s owner stumbled back, losing all of his senses and his face severely cut by the metal of her greaves. Her action was greeted with gasps from the patrons, and she realized the guards would be running her way. She jumped down and brandished her sword simultaneously. When her feet landed, her hand found a solid grip around the Hylian’s throat. Dora shoved him back to the wall with all her might, stunning him with her strength to bash his skull off the wall. The crowd screamed as Dora raised her scimitar to kill him.
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“Must you always have the last word?” Ganondorf teased.
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“Kid, I could tell you stories about the misery and torture that I’ve experienced at the hands of your precious royal family like you have never witnessed, and it would be worse than your nightmares,” she growled, shaking him for emphasis on every other word. “Never denounce the Goddess of the Sand, for she and I have endured the same punishments.”
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“One,” Ganondorf counted as Dora shoved the tip of her blade through the man’s jaw and into his skull.
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All four guards hastened into the tavern full of petrified customers. They hesitated at seeing the tavern owner already slain. Dora taunted them. “Imagine the reward for delivering me alive or dead to your pathetic princess. Attack me, you greedy bastards!” Their boots beat against the floor, their armor clanged loudly, as they charged the counter, and Dora slid over top gracefully to meet them in combat.
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“Two,” Ganondorf continued, as the scimitar found the throat of her next victim. The Gerudo queen avoided the swords of the other three, dancing between them to prepare another guard for death. She maneuvered behind them as they lined up for a synchronized attack, and thrust her blade into his back between his armor straps. “Three,” Ganondorf added. Dora dodged a stab at her chest by twisting aside, and while the guard’s arm was extended she wrapped her arm around his neck and reeled him in. At the same time, the guard’s companion swung mightily through the air, thinking that he might catch Dora off guard. “That doesn’t count,” Ganondorf said stubbornly. The blade was instead embedded in his friend’s shoulder. Dora shoved the dying man to the ground and narrowed her eyes on the one that remained. Whimpering, he turned tail and retreated.
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“And when you see Impa, tell her everything that happened here tonight,” Dora shouted, and sheathed her scimitar. She snatched her basket from the counter and then walked around to enter the kitchen.
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Her basket filled, Dora departed the tavern and resumed her journey to the Valley of Seers. “That was four,” she corrected of Ganondorf once she was out of the trader’s post.
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“Just because you used that guard as a human shield does not mean you caused his death. In fact, he could still survive,” Ganondorf advised.
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“He’ll bleed to death. I’m certain,” Dora smirked. “Three and a half?”
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“Fine. Three and a half.”
Chapter 3
“I miss you.”
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“I’m right here.”
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“That’s not the same.”
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“Are you ever satisfied?”
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“When it comes to you? No.”
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Ganondorf chuckled in defeat at the tenacity of his wife, a sound that erased Dora’s worries and made her long for more happiness. “I can’t possibly be inside of you more than I already am,” he joked in a sultry tone.
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Dora was grateful no one else could hear his vulgar remark, or see the blush heating her cheeks. Before she could refute his statement, she noticed Volga quickly approaching through the valley, toward the stairs that led up to the fortress Cia once used as a stronghold. A month had passed since Volga discovered Dora in the desert and pledged his loyalty. Four of the five Gerudo followed him, armed and ready for battle. “Where is she?” Dora questioned harshly as he bowed.
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“Captured,” Volga answered dutifully without hesitation.
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“Useless,” Ganondorf scoffed in Dora’s head.
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“Then she was weak and would have hindered our mission,” the evil queen said callously. “Volga, are you satisfied with the skill of these warriors?”
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“Yes. Each has come close to defeating me, which is no small accomplishment. They will serve you well,” he informed.
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“Good. Where is Impa now?”
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“The word being spread at the taverns is she was headed toward Zora’s Domain.”
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“Then I must make my way there. None of you are to intervene in my task. You remain as mere shadows until the trap is sprung. Once I give the signal, we make for the Triforce, which will grant Ganondorf his physical form.”
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Each of her underlings nodded confirmation, and then hurried to withdraw. “Good luck, Queen Ganondora. Make it convincing,” Volga offered as he departed.
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As much as Dora would have preferred to surrender immediately, to avoid losing a battle, Volga was right. Giving up was an extremely suspicious act for the Queen of Evil, so she prepared to lose, while still fighting with all her valor. Braced for failure, and armed with her scimitar, she marched out of the valley to make her way to Zora’s Domain.
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Dora waited by the entrance of the territory belonging to the Zora king, up on the cliff of the high mountains, to make her presence known only when she was ready. As the traveling troop led by Impa descended the path leading away from the domain, the queen hurried down the mountain by jumping from one ledge to the next until she reached the ground. “You intimidate them,” Ganondorf noted. “If they feel this amount of force is necessary to arrest you, I imagine they would require an army to kill you. I know you would slay them if I allowed.”
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“I need you to help restrain the predator. Tell me when to lose,” she requested, speaking softly.
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“I will, my queen. Know that this is not failure. Your loss will lead to our victory,” he reassured.
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Dora prepared to fight at half strength as she walked confidently forward with her eyes attentively ahead. Her course planned to set her on a path that intersected with Impa’s troops. “There she is!” The knight that spotted her pointed and yelled, startling the Gerudo queen. She snapped her head to look at them in false surprise, and then darted away. Dora was wiser than to believe the knights were the true challenge, they were only reinforcements. She raced ahead, but held back from sprinting at her fastest possible speed. Impa and her two companions appeared from bursts of white smoke on her left, right, and ahead, with weapons poised to strike. Knights hastily approached from behind. Dora came to a sudden stop and leapt backward, out of range of Impa’s Naginata and the large blades wielded by the other two Sheikah. The Naginata was capable of more than just cutting, so Dora made another swift move to avoid being burnt by the flames.
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“Do not engage Impa,” Ganondorf directed, having sensed Dora’s instinct to target the Sheikah clan leader first. The other two rushed forward simultaneously to overwhelm the queen, but she brandished her scimitar and blocked both Biggoron swords at once. Her arms strained to brace the weight, but her scimitar held firm. She swiped their swords away with her strength and swung at their torso to intentionally force them back. The knights were almost upon her, and she needed room for her next attacks. Dora fought with a firm grip and loose, skilled wrist. Her blade sought throats and craved the blood of her enemies.
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Ganondorf permitted her the chance to release some aggression. The burning of her soul, feeling it as a spirit residing in her flesh, was intoxicating. Soon, he would no longer relish in the heat of her soul, and yearned to indulge in it once more. This was the fire that infatuated him from the beginning, which he nurtured and tamed. When three knights were brutally killed by the Queen of Evil and her scimitar, Ganondorf ordered her to take the fall. The knights were furious about their murdered brothers, and charged Dora at once. She raised her sword to attack, but only deflected their weapons. Falling into continuous defensive routines made Dora feel vulnerable and left several openings for her to be subdued.
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“Disarm her,” Impa shouted. “Prepare the shackles. She’s wearing down!”
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“They’ve mistaken your change in strategy for exhaustion. Use that to your advantage,” Ganondorf ordered.
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Dora obeyed. She gripped the hilt of her scimitar with two hands and her movements gradually turned sluggish, but still powerful. Her blade crushed the helmet of a knight she was particularly furious with, and dented his skull. The knights retreated as their companion fell, and Impa grasped her opportunity. She darted forward, smashed Dora’s hands with the butt of the Naginata, and then spun her weapon around to collide blades with the scimitar and send it flying out of reach. The other Sheikah snatched Dora’s wrists as she grimaced at the pain shooting up her arm from her knuckles. No amount of suffering could have stopped her valiant struggle against the Sheikah attempting to restrain her wrists behind her back. Dora twisted in every direction, managing to throw her head back to bash one of them in the nose, and anything else to make their job more difficult, until she heard the shackles click. Dora’s legs stiffened when they gripped her upper arms to force her down to her knees. Only when they smashed the back of her thighs with their boots did she submit. The curved blade of the Naginata touched underneath Dora’s chin, causing her to look up with the eyes of a ravenous animal. “If not for Zelda’s direct orders to bring you in alive and try you fairly, I’d kill you now and save everyone the trouble,” Impa bragged.
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“Do it,” Dora growled as a challenge. “I don’t need a weapon to kill you. I’ll scoop out your eyes and make you choke on them!” Several knights gasped in shock at this disgusting expression of anger, which led Dora to smirk. Impa’s glare faltered at the dark threat in the tone of the Queen of Evil.
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“Enough,” Ganondorf scolded. “Save your energy for the real fight.”
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“I would love the opportunity to meet your princess,” Dora spat sarcastically.
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“Move,” Impa snapped, sickened by Dora’s disrespect. The Sheikah yanked the tall Gerudo woman from her knees to her feet, and shoved her into a march forward. Impa waited behind to retrieve Dora’s scimitar for safe keeping.
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The Gerudo queen was convinced Impa would torture her by forcing her to march all night, so she was surprised when the knights were ordered to rest. There was no relief for the accused criminal. Impa shackled Dora’s arms to the branch of a tree, making escape impossible. Her arms were strung up all night, the weight pressing on her restrained wrists, and the most she could do to rest her weary legs was lean on the tree trunk. In the morning, Dora screamed with agony when she finally was allowed to lower her arms. After they began to march the remaining distance to Hyrule Castle, Dora spoke out about being treated poorly. “Keep it up, Impa,” she snarled. “This only makes your death that much more satisfying.”
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Ganondorf shared his wife’s anger. The way Impa and the knights treated his cherished queen infuriated him. He remained calm to contain Dora’s raging fire, and offered the power of his spirit to restore her stamina. All that kept him from ordering her to slaughter them was the promise of the Triforce for all her rigorous work.
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Chapter 4
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The glistening spires and reaching balconies of the majestic Hyrule Castle came into view against the cloudless, bright blue midday sky. The cheerful market was Dora’s first obstacle before reaching the drawbridge that crossed over a moat to the castle. The busy villagers of Hyrule Market, donned in rich, vibrant clothing, paused as they discovered the small unit parading through the center of town with a dirty, dark skinned, red haired prisoner in tow. Many of the spectators stood in stunned silence, while others outwardly rejoiced at the capture of Ganondora Dragmire. The snarl the onlookers received from the evil queen made them hastily return to their daily routine.
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The guards at the gate opposite the market instantly obeyed Impa’s order to fetch Zelda and convene in the chamber of the court. The time to act drew near and Dora grinned with anticipation. The trek to the inner rooms of the castle by the ascending, winding dirt road through the gardens continued to carry Dora to the brink of exhaustion, even after accepting Ganondorf’s offer to help sustain her with his energy. If not for him, there was no doubt she would have collapsed.
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“We’re almost there, Dora,” Impa mocked, smirking.
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“You have not earned the right to call me that,” Dora snapped viciously.
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The Sheikah ignored her. “Do you have your defense ready? It’s going to take a miracle to save you from a beheading.”
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“It is your head I will have for your lack of respect, worm. I am Queen Ganondora! You will remember what it is to fear that name!” Anger erupted from her core and throbbed in her mind.
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“I will teach these worthless maggots the price of harming my wife,” Ganondorf reassured in a dark tone that chilled Dora’s fury. “The Triforce is near. I will guide you there. You must act now!”
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Out of nowhere, Dora stumbled forward from tripping over her own feet and crashed to her knees. Her fall was so abrupt that a couple knights escorting the Gerudo queen tripped and fell over her. Dora labored to catch her breath and groaned in false pain. “I can’t move another step,” she whined.
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“Back on your feet, prisoner,” Impa barked, and the knights hurried to rip Dora up from the floor. She grunted and resisted their efforts, screaming at them to leave her alone.
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Ganondorf seethed. “When I am returned to my physical state, nothing will save her from my wrath!”
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Dora remained firmly folded on her knees with her arms rigid at her sides. The fires of rage consumed her, while the knights surrounding her began to fall one-by-one.
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“What’s going on?” Impa yelled in shock, twisting around frantically, her red eyes searching the rafters for the origin of the arrows. Dora jumped with a forward motion, smashing into Impa to knock her down. The evil queen escaped, sprinting deeper into the castle with Ganondorf’s guidance to locate the Triforce. Impa’s shouts to alert all the guards of the intruder echoed through the bare, open corridors and chased Dora as she fled.
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“Queen Ganondora,” yelled a man from behind. Dora was relieved to hear Volga’s voice and slowed to a stop. He swiftly caught up with her and shoved the tip of his spear into the chain of her shackles. With enough force, and a hard yank in the right direction, Dora’s bindings snapped open with a crunch, freeing her to rub her bruised wrists. Volga shoved his queen’s scimitar toward her. As Dora accepted her weapon, he said, “You must hurry, before all routes are blocked. I will hold back Impa as long as possible, and Link when he arrives.”
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“Yes. Don’t kill her just yet. We want that honor,” Dora advised bitterly.
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“I understand, your majesty,” Volga acknowledged before rushing back down the corridor.
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“Now where?”
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“You are so sentimental,” Ganondorf groaned. “Go straight, and then left down the stairs.”
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Dora followed his directions, but protested his statement. “Is there a problem?” The steps led to the next floor down, the same level as the dungeons. The putrid smell of filthy water tainted by feces made the queen nauseous.
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“I find it difficult to believe you’re being nice to him just because he shares the spirit of the fire dragon,” he remarked. “Turn right up ahead.”
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“You know how much he meant to me. We were together when Link killed Volvagia,” she responded bitterly.
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“There,” Ganondorf abruptly said to stop Dora. “Beyond that door.” A corridor spanned to her right, and in the center was a set of solid stone double doors that slammed shut with a bang.
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“It’s the Queen of Evil! Do not let her reach the Triforce. She must not be allowed to breach this chamber,” the guards shouted out of sync.
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“Kill them,” Ganondorf ordered curtly, his voice a sheet of ice.
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“With pleasure,” Dora sneered, and dropped into an offensive stance with her scimitar in hand. Torches illuminated two Sheikah facing the doors, their hands elegantly waving over their heads simultaneously to cast an enchanted barrier that would prevent all darkness from gaining entry to the chamber that contained the Triforce. One additional Sheikah, garbed in a blue uniform with their face hidden, stood with the other two. Knights armed with their royally issued Hylian swords and shields lined up in a protective row in front of the Sheikah, ready to defend them until their magic spell was complete.
​
One knight, the bravest and most foolish, charged forward, but was slain after only a few exchanges of steel. “Two of you,” the Sheikah commander ordered in a muffled voice from behind his mask. Two opponents resulted in a more dangerous and difficult battle, but with the same outcome.
​
“This is pathetic,” Dora mocked loudly. “Have you no knights with the skill to best me?”
​
“There you go being over confident,” Ganondorf scolded.
​
“Let me teach you your place, you rotten snake,” the Sheikah warrior shouted, and leaped at Dora, wielding a kunai in each hand. Dora’s reach with her weapon was longer, which she mistook as an advantage. Her defense was repeatedly breached, making her sword more of a hindrance. After just one near miss close to her face, Dora adjusted her strategy. When the Sheikah darted in close, Dora guarded with her weapon and attacked with her fist. Only once she moved out of range of the kunai did she strike with her scimitar. The Gerudo warrior practiced this delicate balance of defense and offense, until Ganondorf reminded her that time was short.
​
“Hurry or you will never make it in time,” he yelled, referring to the almost complete barrier of light.
​
“Some help would be greatly appreciated,” she growled, though her snark was obvious.
​
“Not until you disable this Sheikah,” he ordered.
​
Dora taunted her opponent into overextending his reach, and she ducked below the kunai that was aimed for her heart. The Gerudo queen reversed the grip on her scimitar’s hilt and shoved the blade through the enemy’s back. Dora twisted the blade sideways as she tore it out in reverse. She stepped casually closer to the door without waiting for the corpse to crumple to the floor. Whether the Sheikah was dead or not, all hope was lost for them. Dora sheathed her weapon and stood before the double doors with determination.
​
“You are not skilled in magic, Ganondora,” the Sheikah on her left taunted. “What do you hope to achieve?”
​
The Queen of Evil disliked having her flaws thrown in her face. She ignored the snide remarks only to obey her king’s powerful spirit, and lifted her arms to raise her hands directly in front of her, one crossed over the other. “This might hurt,” Ganondorf warned.
​
“Nothing will stop me,” Dora replied tenaciously. An intense black aura sprung from the floor like enchanted flames and swirled around her legs. She grimaced at the weight of the power threatening to drag her to her knees. Sweat beaded and trickled down her forehead, while she ground her teeth together to fight off the throbbing in her head. A controlled burst of visible energy coursed from her feet and through her arms, so dense she was concealed in total darkness.
​
“How is she doing that?” one Sheikah shrieked to the other.
​
“This power. I recognize this evil. But it can’t be possible. How do you possess the sorcery of the Demon King?” he yelled. “Stand firm! If we concentrate the attack will fail.”
​
“That’s what they think,” Ganondorf mocked with a chuckle.
​
“Now who’s cocky?” Dora smirked. She locked her elbows and the surging dark energy expelled from her hands. The orb collided with the stone doors and obliterated the light’s seal, penetrating the room’s only resistance to invasion. The Sheikah guarding the door died instantly, disintegrated down to their skeletons. Dora hunched forward, panting from the stamina exerted to control such immense power. The doors were thrust open in the blast, revealing a vacant room with a single pedestal where the Triforce carelessly floated. Dora listened to her heavy breathing echo in the corridor.
​
“Go and seize the Triforce for me, my loyal queen,” Ganondorf ordered, already tasting the sweet rewards of victory.
​
Dora heeded his command, but the sounds of a duel caused her to hesitate, specifically the battle cries of one man that haunted her nightmares. “Link,” she growled, her muscles twitching, and eyes glaring at the Triforce as if it promised his death. Just as she discovered the strength to march into the room, an enemy appeared to her right.
​
“You will never have it,” Impa shouted, throwing a wave of fire at Dora with a mighty swing of her Naginata. Another burst of malevolent energy was thrown from Dora’s arm, controlled by an invisible force, and snuffed out the magical fire. “Impossible,” Impa shouted, petrified as Dora bounded into the central chamber on willpower alone. “Link! Ganondorf is with her. Do not let her reach the Triforce,” Impa desperately shouted, fighting to move forward.
​
Dora sprinted across the bare floor, her arm outstretched with fingers sprawled, extending her natural reach as far as possible. She lunged up the steps of the dais to the pedestal where the archaic relic was suspended, and then snatched the Triforce of Power. The golden triangles shined brightly in response to her touch, illuminating the room as if she plucked the sun from the sky. Dora yanked the goddess’s gift to her chest, enveloping it in her arms. The Triforce was lighter than she imagined, almost weightless, and though the three pieces of godly power were not crafted by man, they felt comprised of smooth stone. The pure light blinded Dora as she spun around to find her pursuers. Impa, Link, Volga, and the Gerudo warriors stood and gawked.
​
“Brace yourself,” Ganondorf cautioned as he prepared to evacuate his wife’s body. “While I’ve enjoyed exploring your divine frame from the inside, it is time I make my appearance.”
​
Dora grinned, unafraid. She clutched the Triforce as if the world threatened to steal her most precious possession. Her only wish, her deepest desire, was the return of Ganondorf, and to live with him forever. The goddesses granted her wish.
​
The space between the three sacred triangles darkened to a black void into another dimension. Dora grimaced, her eyes clenched shut and her teeth grinding together as her body resisted the sudden expulsion of power from her body. Purple smoke poured from the center of the Triforce, dense enough to sink and coat the floor around the dais. Dora cried out in agony as a black and crimson stream of energy bolted from her chest and escaped through the Triforce. This energy moved with purpose, indicating an intelligence guided it around Dora’s legs, curled intimately around her torso, to finally swirl around her neck and caress her face. She easily recognized the malicious intent possessed by the spirit and felt no danger or threat to her life. Ganondorf’s spirit cherished her and showered her with appreciation. Dora smiled with content, but her strength faded after having thrived on his powerful soul for so long. Her legs buckled, causing her to kneel. All at once, the darkness permeating the chamber collided directly in front of Dora, and Ganondorf’s physical form manifested.
Chapter 5
The silhouette of a bare man, full of muscle, hovered out in front of Dora. Before any features became apparent, heavy armor formed over his body and a golden crown adorned his head of long amber hair. The darkness faded and the Gerudo king remained as if born from the energy that burned with hate. He turned fully around and his evil yellow eyes targeted Impa with a scowl. The anguish and loathing at the treatment of his prized goddess consumed him, forming a terrible black aura around his frame. Volga’s renewed battle with Link and the combat of the Gerudo faded into the background as Ganondorf focused on the death of his victim. The leader of the Sheikah was stricken with terror by the malice exuding from the King of Evil.
​
Ganondorf lifted his hands from his sides and summoned two great swords, blades that rivaled the mass of his arms, jagged and spiked with a red, demonic aura. He never laid a finger on them, they only levitated by his sorcery. As he crossed his arms over his broad chest, one sword sped forward. Impa knocked it out of the air with her Naginata, but was too slow to prevent the second one directly behind it from impaling her. The width of the sword pierced all the arteries passing through her left shoulder, promising her death. Her guttural cries of pain were a symphonic masterpiece to Ganondorf’s ears. “Now do you comprehend your actions? You were fooled by my wife,” he mocked. “She allowed you to capture her, knowing you would deliver her to the Triforce!”
​
“Fuck you,” Impa grunted, clutching at her shoulder that bled profusely around the thick metal. “Your execution will be delivered, even if I am not present to bear witness,” Impa promised, realizing her fate.
​
“You are nothing but the lap dog of the royal family. I will delight in your misery while you suffer nightmares beyond your wildest imaginations before death silences you, as revenge for the abysmal treatment of my queen!” Black chains, coated in the same malevolent aura as the swords, catapulted from the air above Ganondorf’s head and ensnared Impa’s wrists. He unfolded his arms and spread his hands, commanding the chains to snap apart and threaten to rip the Sheikah’s body in half. Impa was lifted from the floor by her wrists positioned above her head. The weight of her body, and the sword embedded in her shoulder, tore at her arms that were at the mercy of her bound wrists. Ganondorf intently watched with a wicked sneer as Impa fought against the screams rising up her throat. Her bones and ligaments shifted against the resistance of the blade and bones that refused to give, while the chains laced up her arms and continued to separate her body to its limit.
​
The sword in Impa’s shoulder flared to life, injecting a wave of hatred into her muscles that added a blanket of agony. Her screams were freed, but through gritted teeth, resembling the sound of a tortured beast. Ganondorf adjusted his stance slightly to turn his right side toward Impa and pointed two fingers at her. The sword stuck in her shoulder followed the movements of his fingers and twisted to a different angle. He raised the same hand, directing the sword to abruptly rip up through Impa’s shoulder, only to command the blade to crash down and cleave Impa diagonally in half. The two sections of her body dangled by the enchanted chains, draining blood into a wide pool on the stone floor.
​
Ganondorf spared a moment to admire the way Impa’s loose innards hit the floor with a splat and her intestines dangled in the air. He turned his back to the gore and the other battles, with his arm outstretched and fingers extended to Dora. She accepted his hand and he aided her to stand of her own strength. “Can you fight?” he inquired gruffly.
​
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, but her weak voice betrayed her determination. Her head wobbled dangerously on her neck and she struggled to focus on Ganondorf’s face when she looked up to him.
​
He was familiar with her tenacious behavior, and that she often risked her life to slay his enemies. Fighting in her current state would only lead to unnecessary sacrifice. “Dora, you have nothing to prove to me. I understand your willpower more than ever after learning of the torment you face when I am wrested from your life. I have always accepted your passionate expressions of emotion, but now I have experienced them.” Ganondorf lifted his open hand in front of him and touched all three parts of the Triforce at once. The radiating, golden glow intensified, filling Dora with warmth as comforting as a fire on a dreary day of rain. Her fatigued spirit was revitalized, her strength fortified, and she gazed at Ganondorf with new excitement.
​
The relic capable of granting ultimate power, still clutched in her arms, gradually dissolved, until she was left to embrace the man wielding the Triforce. “That is why, even if I desired such power, I could never possess something so grand. I have no knowledge of how to wield its power, and the only one suited for that task is you,” Dora praised graciously.
​
Ganondorf chuckled, a smirk playing his lips at the way his queen perfectly excited his ego. He shifted his weight to turn back and join the battle against Link, when he was crippled by a burst of light that invaded his body. Dora jerked back, narrowly avoiding being pierced by the head of the arrow of light that impaled the King of Evil. “Ganondorf,” she shouted in fear, but failed to support his body as he was berated by the purity of light. Dora knew only one person who wielded such awful magic, and her muscles tensed in anticipation of spilling the blood of Princess Zelda.
​
The Gerudo queen reluctantly abandoned her husband’s side, only for knowing that action would be all that ended his suffering. She brandished her weapon, hurrying to confront Zelda in combat and stop the assault on Ganondorf. Dora was thwarted when another blade crossed her scimitar, throwing sparks when they collided. This sword’s power emanated and permeated her darkness faster than she could draw her next breath. The blade of the Master Sword was inches from her face. Her attention momentarily shifted to Link, with a terrible expression that alone could have brought his death. The hero lost focus and directed his shield to block Volga’s spear from attempting to pierce his torso. Dora did not waste the precious opportunity that the dragon warrior risked his life to provide. Zelda was prepared, and their blades clashed, but not for long.
​
Dora demonstrated that her strength and speed from maintained rigorous Gerudo warrior training was more than a match for Zelda, despite her excellent skill with the rapier she wielded. Between the two, they managed nothing more than a few close calls. Zelda was wary of Ganondorf’s recovery as she combated the wicked Gerudo queen. The princess was in a hurry to subdue the King of Evil as quickly as possible, and Dora proved a nuisance.
​
As Ganondorf’s dark powers began to climb in strength, small portals sporadically sprung open across the stone floor. His demons, the spawn of his evil, crawled forth from these pits that led to a void in the Sacred Realm. Bokoblins, moblins, lizalfos, and Dark Nuts began to fill the room. Their unspoken orders understood, and the enemy clear, they raced toward Zelda and Link as if competing to be the first one to attack. Ganondorf marched steadily forward, allowing his minions to swarm around him like an ocean of darkness.
​
Dora was given an obvious advantage in her battle with Zelda, and used the confusion to reverse her position with the princess. Zelda’s back was forced to Ganondorf as Dora directed their movement by overpowering her. The evil king returned Zelda’s attack in kind by barraging her with an enormous blast of dark sorcery. The magic danced across her body and sparked like lightning, causing her to convulse. Zelda’s rich screams were accented by a deep groan from a source that was not immediately known. All combatants froze in time just for the briefest moment for Dora to realize the other cry of pain did not belong to Link, but her beloved Volga. “No,” she cried out and rushed toward him, while Zelda stumbled forward to put distance between her and Ganondorf. Dora carelessly dropped her scimitar and thrust out her arms to catch Volga. The Master Sword was yanked from Volga’s body, causing him to fall forward into Dora’s embrace.
​
“Link,” Zelda called with a strained voice. “We must go,” she exclaimed, fighting to reach the door through the horde of monsters. “We cannot win this battle as we are now!”
​
Dora barely registered the escape of the princess and her hero, or the steady flow of monsters exiting the chamber to invade the castle and terrorize its occupants. Her only concern was the man clutching her shoulders as she carefully lowered him to the floor. She rested on her knees and leaned over him to tenderly touch his pale face, distorted by the expression of pain. “No, Volga. Please,” she begged, but choked on the rest of her words. Her traitorous eyes drifted continuously to the gash across his torso. The sacred blade tore open his armor, and the final strike had seen the point of the sword driven through Volga’s chest. Blood poured like a river from his torso, and before long Dora was kneeling in a pool of crimson.
​
“I wish I could have told you back then how I admired you and loved you as a mother,” Volga said, his voice hoarse from searching for the strength to speak his final words to the woman he adored. “I always looked forward to your visits and to see you smile at my flying tricks.”
​
“You were always a great friend, and a sweet dragon. I could always come to you for comfort. I always knew you would make a skilled fighter, and I am honored that you fought for me. Your name will always be remembered, Volga, the fire dragon warrior,” Dora said with praise, and wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him close as if he were her child.
“I’m thankful,” he said, struggling to breathe, “that this time, I get to say goodbye.”
​
Dora held his torso, the pointed armor pressing into her skin and causing discomfort, but none of that compared to the pain of her shattered heart. “Goodbye, Volga,” she sobbed. The misery of her grief ripped through her body and she fell into an inconsolable mess of tears.
​
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Chapter 6
Ganondorf stood firm and listened. His callous gaze was transfixed on a crevice in the stone floor, his mind utterly blank. Each sharp gasp of air taken by Dora stabbed his heart, but his stern face only expressed angry determination. He waited, allowing her the chance to cycle through her emotions and braced himself for the incoming rage. Dora’s sobs of sorrow gradually deepened until she seethed. Her cries were replaced with ravenous snarls of a vicious predator. She sat up, her teeth clenched, and slipped her fingers under Volga’s helmet to remove it from his head. Dora finally stood with both hands gripping the helmet shaped like the ancient fire dragon’s head and horns. “I will avenge you,” she promised in a growl.”I will kill him!” she yelled, and turned her harsh glare to Ganondorf. “I want Link’s head,” she screamed, even deafening herself.
​
The Gerudo king remained unfazed, having seen this ferocious side of his wife on multiple occasions. In a way, he yearned to dive into her body, join her fiery soul, and intimately experience this emotion. He also knew better than to stand in her way of vengeance.
​
Dora positioned Volga’s helmet over her crown as she declared, “I want his armor repaired and adjusted to fit me. I will wear it when I slay his murderer.”
​
Ganondorf declined to argue and remained calm to combat her fury. “You will have all that you desire, my queen. There are matters to attend, a funeral, our coronation, and then we can focus our attention on the hunt, if they haven’t already returned for more punishment.”
​
Several lives were lost in the skirmish, mostly Hylian knights and Sheikah that guarded the Triforce from evil, in addition to Impa. Ganondorf’s forces suffered only one casualty, but that was the only one of significance to Dora. That night, while the corpses of her enemies were piled and buried in a pit, the queen paid her final respects to Volga. Dora carried his body and placed him in the most lavish garden the castle offered, and surrounded the square area with as many burning torches as she could collect. Once the scene was set, she firmly held one of the torches to the ground and slowly walked in an expanding circle around the body to catch the grass and flowers on fire. Volga was surrounded in a flame of beauty that consumed everything in its destructive path. Dora departed the swiftly burning garden and stood at Ganondorf’s side. Their fingers instinctively interlocked. He felt her tears in her trembling, so he squeezed her hand to offer his condolence, and strength for her to defeat her sorrow. “Volga may not have possessed the same form, but his soul was the same. I gave him life once. I will never forget the majesty of his soul,” Dora said, straining against the muscles tight in her throat.
​
“You were never wrong. He remembered you, truly, and without my influence. I told you the bond you formed with him was remarkable, even special,” Ganondorf advised, his tone unusually soft.
​
“Did you revive him again?” she wondered.
​
“You might say that,” he answered with renewed authority. “I convinced Cia that we needed a warrior, and his fierce spirit was perfect.”
​
Dora glowered at the mention of the sorceress’s name. “I see. Ultimately, it was your idea as a gift to me.”
​
“Yes, however he once more fell to Hyrule’s hero,” Ganondorf reminded callously.
​
Dora choked as her chest tightened with a rush of new grief and her eyes burned with fresh tears. “If I ever hear Cia’s name again it will be too soon.”
​
Ganondorf chuckled, amused by her hatred of the sorceress. “You would have liked her. In the end, she lost sight of her goal and abused her power to cause senseless destruction.”
​
Silence blanketed them for the rest of the time, until only embers remained of the fire and the garden was nothing but black ash. Ganondorf tugged on Dora’s hand to dislodge her from the spot she was rooted to, and escorted her to the throne chamber. They passed dull blue bokoblins and black moblins roaming the corridors on patrol. Not a single Hylian was left occupying the castle, though they would soon need to choose to follow Ganondorf’s reign, or resist and die.
​
“Are you going to bring them back?” Dora asked, as if from nowhere.
​
“Yes.”
​
Dora groaned, pressing her index finger to the temple of her head. “Those two do nothing but bicker. I’m shocked they manage to get anything accomplished.”
​
“You’re right, but they are your best option if you want to find Zelda and her hero,” Ganondorf advised with a twisted grin.
​
“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed.
​
When the king and queen arrived in the chamber, Ganondorf turned to Dora and softly kissed her lips. She welcomed his gesture, believing this to be the promise of more exciting events soon to come.
​
“Surprise!”
​
Dora’s heart threatened to evacuate her chest with each rapid beat. Her eyes widened, while Ganondorf grinned sadistically, and she searched for the fools who scared her.
​
“Happy coronation day,” called a voice that was as suave as it was arrogant. He leapt out from behind the king’s throne with a flourish of his hands, and then deeply bowed in greeting. When he straightened, he brushed aside his long white bangs.
​
“Vasaaq, Ghirahim,” Dora said, fending off a groan. “Where is Zant?”
​
“Hm? Oh, him,” the Demon Lord chuckled. He snapped his fingers and flicked his wrist almost elegantly, conjuring Zant from thin air.
​
Furious, the Usurper King instantly began to squawk. “You had no right to do that! I was here first to congratulate them!”
​
“Too bad I outsmarted you, like always,” Ghirahim pointed out nonchalantly.
​
Ganondorf ignored his subordinates and allowed them to continue their banter, waiting anxiously for the moment Dora would remind them of their place.
​
“Your majesties, it is wonderful to see you,” Zant proclaimed with a graceful bow. “I am delighted that you have reclaimed what is yours by right.”
​
“Stop kissing ass, Zant,” Ghirahim snapped. “You always speak with such fervor, but when a task must be completed I constantly prove superior. You are just a spoiled child,” he mocked with conceit.
​
“You are so rotten, Ghirahim! You cheat to win,” Zant argued, ”which proves you will never be powerful enough to win in a fair fight.”
​
“I never claimed to play fair,” Ghirahim pointed out with cool confidence. “I only do what it takes to win.”
​
“That is enough,” Dora shouted, silencing them. The two hurried to stand before her, Zant more rigid than Ghirahim, but she continued before they could argue over the best apology. “Volga is dead,” she informed somberly. “And his killer runs free.”
​
“Your majesty, that is--,” Zant began.
​
“My sincerest condolences, Queen Ganondora,” Ghirahim interjected.
​
The self-proclaimed King of Twilight tossed a glare at his companion, before looking sympathetically back at Dora. “He was a great warrior, your majesty. I will personally guarantee that his murderer is brought to justice,” he declared.
​
Dora shifted her gaze between the pair. They were loyal to a fault, so much they seemed to compete to see who was more dedicated. “You two have been summoned to hunt for Link and bring him to me so that I may avenge Volga’s death.”
​
“Right away, your majesty,” Zant acknowledged.
​
“I should have known that sky child would be to blame. This will be all too easy, your highness,” Ghirahim chuckled.
​
“Go,” Ganondorf ordered, feeling they had annoyed their queen enough. They vanished, and Dora sighed in relief. He placed his hands on the sides of her face and captured her gaze. “And you, my devoted goddess, have endured many hardships leading to this moment. I order you to rest.”
​
“What about you?” she worried.
​
“As expected, you would put concern for me before yourself. Go and wash, I will join you soon. I long to share a bed with you, but in time,” he promised.
​
Dora’s eyes sparked with a smile. She kissed Ganondorf’s cheek, and then exited the throne room to find the master chamber.
​
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Chapter 7
​
Ganondorf stood in the silence that ensued upon Dora’s departure, reflecting on the day, contemplating the consequences of his next actions. He allowed time to pass for Dora to lose herself in the dark corridors of the castle, before he headed down from the castle to the market. The last war was still fresh in the thoughts of the simple minded occupants of Hyrule Castle Town. He was cognizant that leaving the townspeople to their own devices held the potential for disaster, so he would pay them a visit to end any compulsive ideas of a rebellion before one started. The king descended the hills and retraced the path Dora was marched along as a prisoner to be brought for her persecution. Voices rang out as he drew nearer to the village and he crossed the moat. Energetic battle cries joined the charismatic voices. Ganondorf realized he arrived not a moment too soon.
​
Directly after stepping off the drawbridge he walked under an archway and between two shops with dark windows that served as the entryway to the market. A mass had gathered in the square to one side of the fountain, with weapons in hand. Ganondorf saw only his entertainment for the night. Heads began to whip in his direction as the news of his arrival rippled through the makeshift army, so he addressed them. “You are nothing more than fuel for my hate,” he yelled. “Did you truly believe a group of fools wielding pitchforks, dull, rusted swords, and torches could end my reign? That it would be enough to reclaim your castle?”
​
“What are we waiting for? He’s right here,” one man shouted to his friends.
​
“He’s delivered himself to us! Get him!”
​
Ganondorf smirked and raised his hands straight out in front of him. “Fools,” he said for his own pleasure. The organized mob rushed toward him with fierce determination. They were almost upon him, the closest men prepared to swing, when Ganondorf expelled a wave of darkness that bowled over anyone in proximity. Bodies were launched in every direction, some colliding with houses, stone and wooden benches, or posts for torches, all with a sickening thud that promised death. Those in the farthest reaches of the crowd were unaffected, but frozen in their tracks. Any that survived Ganondorf’s devastating attack climbed back to their feet with great effort. Women with fearful expressions rushed out of houses and into the streets, some fighting back curious children. “I will continue to slay these men as long as you choose to resist,” Ganondorf solemnly advised them, and then displayed the Triforce to them from the back of his fist. “You have two options, kneel to me to secure your survival, or you can amuse me by continuing this farce of a rebellion.” His statements were followed by collective hesitation, as if they debated his threat as a unified mind. All they needed was one brave fool to incite a new riot, and even some of the women picked up a weapon to fight. A stronger message would need to be sent to make the Hylian dogs beg for scraps.
​
The King of Evil summoned a trident with a black shaft, surrounded by a fiery aura, and jagged prongs eager to shred the flesh of his enemies. He dashed into battle as a single Gerudo warrior army versus a battalion of villagers filled with heroic nonsense and false hope for glory. Ganondorf would not toy with them long. Watching the villagers repeatedly throw themselves at him only to be slaughtered was pathetic. More energy was wasted by dealing with them individually. One heavy attack would set them all in a place of servitude, or end their lives, but either result suited his purpose just fine. Ganondorf tossed his trident with a mighty flick of his wrist. His sorcery guided the weapon into the mob and stunned all who were touched. He lunged in directly behind the trident stabbed in the dirt, and gripped the handle. A red ring appeared around Ganondorf, filled with ancient runes, and the black aura of a terrible beast burst forth from his frame. The expulsion of this monster contained within brought him to a knee as a giant arm swept across the horde of villagers, crippling or killing those unlucky enough to be in the creature’s path. The dark aura shrank back into Ganondorf, and he was able to return to his feet, unscathed, by the support of the Trident of Demise.
​
Howling screams of agony, simultaneous with moaning and groaning, resonated between the homes and shop fronts. Bodies, not all of them corpses but some of them maimed, lay strewn across the cobblestone paths. The scene was utter mayhem as mothers consoled weeping children, themselves struggling to remain strong. Men that were only capable of crawling, dragged themselves across the ground to Ganondorf’s feet. He patiently waited, until one man begged for mercy to spare the lives of those that remained. “May the blood of your families always serve as a reminder for the punishment that awaits betrayal. May your grief serve as a message to all of Hyrule that the Demon King has returned to his rightful place.”
​
Ganondorf turned his back on the wounded, the mournful, and the angered villagers with confidence that no one possessed the courage to attack. They were broken sheep, and they would learn that he was their only shepherd. He returned to the castle to attend more pleasurable business.
​
Dora’s powerful soul led Ganondorf to the master chamber, to find her curled up on the bed, bathed and nude, fast asleep. No doubt the day’s events took their toll on her emotions and exhausted her in every imaginable way, even after the boost of energy from the Triforce. Aware that his wife slept heavily, unless he snored by her side, he never worried about waking her when he gently lifted her to move the soft, royal blue blanket, and then covered her. He peered at her, wondering what images visited her dreams, and if she would blather about them in the morning. Ganondorf grunted a brief, restrained laugh, knowing she would be upset that she missed the chaos in town. There was much he yearned to share with her, intimately or otherwise, yet witnessing her rest in tranquility reminiscent of a goddess he thought disturbing such divinity would have been blasphemous. Instead, he sat beside her for a time, absorbing the details in the lines of her face, the way her eyes shifted and her mouth twitched in her sleep. He listened to the peaceful pattern of her breathing. When he concentrated he could hear the calming, rhythmic beat of her heart. How she could enchant him in spite of his loathsome soul and liberate him from the darkness, all while inspiring him to commit evil deeds and supporting his quest for unlimited power, he would never be able to explain. He adored Ganondora. Although she could act irrationally, seeing her in such serenity reminded him of his unbidden love for her, and that she was his most precious possession.
​
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Chapter 8
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The rich chorus of chirping forest insects, decorated by a melody of hooting birds of the night, welcomed the pair of evil souls to Faron Woods, the resting place of the Sacred Forest Meadow. Ghirahim, dressed in his white attire, garnished with his red cowl, sauntered alongside his enthusiastic companion. Zant traveled without his helmet extended, wearing his regal robes usually only presented to the kings of the Twilight Realm. Any that knew the truth of their origins might wonder how they ended up wandering into the woods together, but this was not the first time they were forced to act as a team.
​
“I’m going to take over the search now, Ghirahim. You’re just leading us in circles,” Zant complained with an annoyed groan.
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Ghirahim scoffed. “Only because you are too dull to recognize my intricate scheme.”
​
“Scheme? Ha! And what would that be oh mighty lord of demons?”
​
“If I told you that would just ruin the surprise. I’m experienced in tracking both the blonde girl and the wretched boy. They are mere children to me,” Ghirahim merrily explained.
​
“Sounds more to me like you have no idea what you’re doing,” Zant remarked as they traveled deeper into the darkening forest. The only light offered was the glow of the fairies bouncing in the distance, but they dashed out of sight upon sensing the approaching darkness. The evil pair clung to the worn path as they were in no way trying to hide from their enemies.
​
“You’re just too dull to fathom my brilliance,” the Demon Lord responded arrogantly with a flick of his head, tossing his white hair aside. “What have you ever done, other than leech power from the Demon King?”
​
“I have done and always will do the bidding of my god,” Zant retorted indignantly. “He offered me a fraction of his power to overthrow Midna, and in return I covered the world of light in the nightmares of Twilight.”
​
“And if I’m not mistaken, which let’s face it I never am,” Ghirahim chuckled, “you wanted revenge for your people anyway. Ganondorf’s desire to conquer Hyrule and snuff out the royal family served a mutual purpose for you. Everything you have done was for your own selfish gain.”
​
Ghirahim’s perspective of Zant’s service to Ganondorf frustrated the Twili to the point of screaming, a sound that was muffled only by the helmet he quickly deployed. With his aggravation exerted, his helmet automatically retracted. “And what great deeds have you done for the Demon King to warrant your arrogance?” he challenged haughtily.
​
“I succeeded in resurrecting him, many years before you Twili were even conceived, when islands ruled the sky and Hylians were forbidden from the ground,” he advised proudly, leading Zant across one of the long wooden bridges that connected the paths between trees high over dry land. “Then I became his sword to strike down Hylia and her hero. All that I have done is out of complete selflessness, of course.”
​
“You failed,” Zant laughed, a high pitched cackle. “That’s not much of an accomplishment!”
​
“Ah, but I was merely a tool in that battle. If the one wielding the tool has no mastery, one is always bound to fail,” he explained wisely.
​
“So, you’re trying to say Demise’s demise was his own fault? That you hold no blame?” he wondered in disbelief.
​
“Precisely, my dimwitted friend.”
​
“That’s just terrible!”
​
“You’re one to talk after the stunt you pulled,” Ghirahim snapped. “If it wasn’t for Queen Ganondora’s soft heart you would still be dead!”
​
“It was a misunderstanding. You were not involved,” Zant firmly corrected.
​
“A misunderstanding?” Ghirahim laughed uncontrollably. “You sacrificed yourself to stop the King of Evil, and for what? Because you thought he betrayed you? I admit our great king is quite pompous, but he always fulfills a promise.”
​
“That’s enough out of you,” Zant screeched. “I’m tired of your insults!” He raised his arms over his head, forming a large black orb detailed with sharp, red Twili inscriptions. Ghirahim raced ahead, an arrogant smirk on his face. He came to a halt just in time to turn and find Zant’s magical attack soaring at him. The Demon Lord dashed out of the way at the last opportunity, leaving the magic to explode on the bark of a historically enormous tree. A groan echoed between the other trees crowding the forest floor, followed by a resounding creak. Zant ignored the painful cry of the ancient tree and continued to barrage his opponent with attacks made from Twilight magic.
​
“Now that’s the spirit, Zant,” Ghirahim goaded as he dodged. “Where was this fight the last time we worked together?” Further aggravated, Zant leapt straight into the air with his Twili marked scimitars brandished, and then propelled himself toward Ghirahim while spinning wildly. The Demon Lord evaded, leaving Zant to collide with the tree and drive the tip of his helmet deep into its bark. Ghirahim backed away a great distance, as if trying to bring the entire tree into view from roots to crown. A satisfied grin marked his white lips as he hissed, “There they are.”
​
“It’s Zant,” Zelda exclaimed, rushing along the path around the tree’s bulk. Link followed obediently at her side and unsheathed the Master Sword. “We must stop him from harming the Great Deku Tree,” she ordered and conjured a bow of light. Link rushed ahead, hoping to catch the unsuspecting Usurper King off guard.
​
“Closer. Closer,” Ghirahim urged. “Yes,” he exclaimed, and trapped both his friend and enemy in a net of diamonds, like the one tattooed under his left eye, as they locked blades.
​
“What is the meaning of this you vile demon,” Zant screeched, flailing about with his scimitars still clutched in his hands. The barrier bent to his weight, but was nearly impenetrable. Link acted more rationally with his shield out to block against Zant’s crazed movements and avoid being sliced open. Ghirahim lifted his prisoners higher off the ground, wanting Link to think twice before cutting his way to safety.
​
“Oh no you don’t,” Zelda yelled, and fired her light arrow at Ghirahim, successfully interrupting his magic. He grunted in horror, and seethed with both anger and pain. Link and Zant were free of their diamond prison to fall. They hit the ground with a thud and began their battle anew.
​
“Grab the girl,” Ghirahim shouted shrilly, his throat tight with anger.
​
“But Ganondora-.”
​
“I don’t care what she said,” Ghirahim roared. “Obey my orders or I will personally guarantee you experience death again!”
​
Zant already recognized they were outmatched. Ghirahim’s surprise trap failed and Link wielded the Master Sword, the only blade capable of besting the King of Evil. They were wise to act with caution. “She will kill us both if we bring back the wrong one.”
​
“Fine,” Ghirahim roared. “I will do it myself, just like everything else!” He snapped his fingers and a slender rapier with a curved blade appeared. He snatched it from the air and dashed forward to meet Zelda in a duel. She conjured a glittering rapier that transformed from the light of the bow, and was barely solid when she blocked his attack. Ghirahim's speed was unmatched. He darted from side to side, dodging Zelda’s swings, but he moved so fast he seemed to just vanish from her left and then appear on her right. Zelda could not dodge the kunai that appeared all around her wherever she looked. Ghirahim snapped his fingers and the kunai flung to the center, most of them striking the princess at once. While she was stunned, the Demon Lord dismissed his weapon and a round design of runes appeared at Zelda’s feet. She was bewildered by his movements that resembled a heavily inebriated man attempting to dance. The time to dodge had passed when she realized his crazed steps led up to an attack. Zelda was raised from the ground and collided with a barrier of diamonds that appeared suddenly over head. She shrieked as the pain shot like fire through her veins, making her easy to collect when she slammed back to the ground. “Let’s go,” Ghirahim ordered as he vanished from sight.
​
Link fought fiercely to dispatch Zant so that he might aid Zelda, but he was too late. The Twili proved a formidable foe. “Fine,” Zant whined and reluctantly followed, disappearing as twirling black squares into a Twilight portal.
​
​
​
​
Chapter 9
​
Dora stood on the balcony of the master chamber, wearing only a royal blue robe, rust orange hair tied back and braided, prepared to face her first full day as Queen of Hyrule. Stepping away from the magnificent view of the world, out of the protective arms of her husband, was going to take an act of divinity. Her cheek pressed to his bare chest, she asked, “What matter did you attend last night?”
​
Ganondorf pressed his lips to the exposed skin on Dora’s forehead, still dazed from her surprise outpouring of unrestrained passion that morning. “I prevented an uprising of the citizens of Hyrule. When I arrived, they were already prepared to storm the castle,” he explained.
​
“And?” she questioned expectantly, resting her hands behind his neck.
​
“I lost count,” he chuckled, interlocking his fingers by her lower back.
​
Dora gasped, lifting her head to stare into his piercing yellow eyes with that hint of red in the center. “You sent me to bed as if I were just a child so you could go off and have all the fun without me?”
​
“I never could have anticipated that many men and women would be ready to throw away their lives, Dora,” he countered with sarcasm. His comment was rewarded with her rich laughter. Her hands crept over his bare shoulders and down to his elbows, but stopped when their moment of tender affection was abruptly interrupted by the shouting of a man and woman.
​
“Unhand me you fiend,” screeched a familiar voice.
​
“Shut up, wench,” Ghirahim commanded, his tone inhumanly deep.
​
Dora growled in frustration at the same time Ganondorf freed her from his embrace. Standing just inside the threshold, from the balcony to the chamber, stood Zant, looking fearful with wide, honey yellow eyes, and Ghirahim, restraining Zelda firmly to prevent her from wielding any weapons of light.
​
“Explain yourself,” Dora demanded, raising her voice. She tightened the robe to better conceal herself from the waist down.
​
Zant immediately closed his eyes and turned away after realizing Dora’s bare skin from her neck to her navel. Ghirahim was not affected by her lack of modesty. “Oh, my queen,” he began with a smirk, his anger receding. “I apologize, are we interrupting? Should we come back later?” he teased, his eyes shifting from Dora to the Demon King.
​
“Silence, Ghirahim,” Ganondorf barked, tension tightening his chest. “Your queen gave you a command,” he said sternly.
​
Before the Demon Lord could reply, Zelda yelled, “What have you done to my chamber?” The princess found she was incapable of tearing her eyes away from the disheveled bed where she had slept the night before last. “You have defiled my home!”
​
Dora glared at Zelda and was abruptly uprooted from her spot to close the distance between them with two strides of her long legs. By Gerudo standards, Dora was less than average height, but she towered over Zelda. The queen snatched Zelda’s cheeks in her hand, forcing her sapphire eyes to stare straight ahead. Zelda experienced a sharp jolt of fear as she gazed into Dora’s vicious yellow eyes. That panic was replaced by disgust when she realized the Gerudo queen was nude beneath the long, blue robe that belonged to the princess.
​
“This is my home now,” Dora advised, dark but superior. Her meaning was intensified by digging her nails into Zelda’s cheeks. The Queen of Evil delighted in the way she squirmed, but was unable to escape. “Where I choose to make love to my husband is none of your concern.” Dora released Zelda’s face, only to pull her hand back and bring the flat of her palm against her enemy’s cheek. Zelda yelped initially, and seethed as the sting spread through her face, bringing tears to her eyes. Dora straightened, standing proudly, once more adjusting her robe. “Ghirahim, why have you delivered Zelda to me instead of Link? You disobeyed me!”
​
“My queen,” Zant began, pleading, “Ghirahim’s plan failed, and we were unable to procure Volga’s killer.”
​
“Zant, you idiot,” Ghirahim snapped, silencing his comrade. “Your majesty, you can’t possibly be so foolhardy to be blind to the opportunity before you.”
​
“Zelda’s life is of no consequence to me,” Dora snapped, ignoring his insults. “Strike her dead now for all I care. It is Link’s life I want!”
​
Ganondorf grunted and shook his head slowly in disappointment. “You must not allow your anger to defeat rational thought, Dora,” he scolded, stepping just in front of her as if to remind her of her place. The king lifted his hand and in the blink of an eye he conjured a sphere that shot forth from his hand and struck Zelda. A steady stream of magic continued to flow from him that kept her subdued. “I have allowed you the chance to take control of the situation, but I must intervene now.”
​
Dora stepped back with her head bowed in shame and said, “I understand.”
​
“Ghirahim, Zant!” Ganondorf yelled their names with revulsion. “I am forced to salvage your failed mission again,” he said, arrogant and cold. The aura of darkness surrounding Zelda shrank, leaving behind a set of shackles that chained her wrists behind her back to a collar around her neck. Ganondorf reached and gripped Dora’s hand, casting her a knowing gaze. Dora accepted his hand and found he bestowed upon her the end of Zelda’s leash. “We will use Zelda to lure Link here, my queen,” he advised wisely. “Besides, we need time to prepare Volga’s armor so that you may wear it in his honor for the hero’s execution.”
​
A sadistic grin spread over Dora’s face, miraculously adding to her natural beauty. “I would love to hear Zelda beg for his life as I strike him down,” she laughed.
​
“This mistake offers many opportunities, even if it is not the path your foresaw. Take full advantage.” Ganondorf directed his attention back to his subordinates. “You two, make sure Link is aware that his princess is waiting to be rescued.”
​
“Right away, your majesty,” Zant acknowledged, bowing with his glare on Ghirahim.
​
“Your wish is my command,” Ghirahim said, straining to keep his voice calm. They vanished in unison.
​
“You will never win. Your victories are only temporary,” Zelda angrily yelled. “I will deliver justice for Impa’s sacrifice!”
​
Dora yanked on the chain that attached the iron shackles to Zelda's collar, forcing the princess to stumble toward the room adjacent to the master chamber. “I’m going to keep you close to me at all times to guarantee Link will find me,” Dora schemed. “And when he does I will take his life.”
​
Zelda glared in defiance, watching the queen slip the robe off her shoulders. “I am not so easily humiliated,” she advised, locking her eyes on Dora’s face.
​
“We will see, princess,” she said evilly, “when tonight you are trapped in this chamber without any hope of escape.”
​
The queen's implication was quickly understood and Zelda gasped, growing rigid. "You wouldn't," she yelled in disgust.
​
Dora tightened her greaves and then leaned down to press her face in close to Zelda. "Anything to make you hate me more," she hissed. "Be a good slave and I'll make sure your death is painless," Dora mocked, shoving the princess out of the chamber. Accompanied by her slave, she descended the stairs to the main floor of the castle to manage her duties on the first day as Queen of Hyrule.
​
​
​
Chapter 10
​
A long wooden table split the dining hall in half, eight chairs on each side and one on both ends. Candle ridden chandeliers hung from the ceiling to illuminate the luxurious meal set for the King and Queen of Hyrule. Ganondorf was positioned at the head of the table, with his queen to his right. Zelda sat on Dora's right with an empty plate in front of her, where the queen began to discard bones with hardly any meat left on them.
​
Ghirahim's voice floated across the room as he gracefully stepped inside. "My, my, Zelda, you are certainly looking worse for wear."
​
Zant giggled incessantly at Ghirahim's snide remark about her condition. Zelda's crown was absent from her head, having broken during her last attempt to escape, leaving her golden yellow hair in disarray. The dress she wore the day Hyrule Castle was conquered was filthy and torn from sleeping on the floor.
​
"Yes," Dora agreed. "I believe her spirit is finally broken."
​
Zelda scowled at the food on the table, her stomach roaring. Dora placed a piece of bread on the plate, on top of the bones, but Zelda made no motion to eat because her arms were bound behind her back.
"As you can see you are interrupting my meal," Ganondorf remarked impatiently. "You have been absent for two days. Have you come with a purpose, or just to admit you failed to lure the hero here, even with the bait already set?"
​
"Ah, yes, do forgive me, your highness," Ghirahim said humbly, bowing so deeply he seemed to mock Ganondorf instead of showing respect. "We have good news to report. Link is on his way as we speak."
"Excellent," Dora grinned.
​
"What information are you withholding?" Ganondorf questioned harshly.
​
"I told you not to keep it a secret," Zant scolded his comrade. "Link was able to find help, your majesties. Lana opened the gates to request aid from across time, but a different group of warriors has appeared."
​
"Tell me the names of the opposition."
​
"Midna, but she has defeated her imp form and returned as a complete Twili. She will be more powerful now," Zant advised, glowering. "The blue one has returned, as well as Rauru, a Sage of Light."
​
Displeased, Dora tangled her fingers in Zelda's chain. "They will prove a challenge, but no matter the forces the Demon King will succeed."
​
Ghirahim tilted his head back and chuckled, a twisted smirk darkening his handsome features. His gray eyes captured Dora's gaze, filling her with trepidation. "Zant has forgotten the most important one. Your oldest and dearest friend, Nabooru."
​
Dora froze, a thousand images from the past flashing through her mind as if they became a moving picture.
​
Ganondorf lowered his head and muttered a curse under his breath, anticipating Dora's reaction.
​
"The rat," she growled, the muscles in her throat contracting. "This is my chance to punish her for betraying the Gerudo!"
​
"Our first act will be to eliminate Lana, which will force our unwelcome visitors back to their own time," Ganondorf ordered, making his decision final.
​
Dora found room to question his decision. "You'll allow Nabooru to live?"
​
"You, Dora, will refrain from killing her and questioning my motives," he advised callously.
​
Dora rocketed from her seat, appalled by his demands. "You let her live once and regret that still. Why do it again?" she argued.
​
"Killing her now will change nothing about the past, and that's all your hatred is about. Allow your hate to consume you and you will lose sight of the goal. Vengeance for Volga. The domination of Hyrule. You'll become obsessed with Nabooru's death and you will fail!"
​
"You're defending her!"
​
Ganondorf rose from his chair with an intimidating anger that emanated from him in powerful, electrifying waves. "This is not a debate! Continue to defy me and you will be the next one in chains. This is about protecting you, and always has been. What more must I do? What else must I prove so that you will forever know none compare to you?"
​
Dora felt his words hammering a jagged dagger into her heart. "This isn't about me!"
​
"You always forget I know you better than you do. Whether you believe it or not, no matter the excuses you use, this is about the past that you never forgot."
​
"No! This is about the pride of the Gerudo,” she argued stubbornly. “The divide that nearly led us to extinction because of her misplaced loyalty and because she was allowed to live! She was a Sage that helped seal you in the Sacred Realm. At which point I became a prisoner, birthed a child I was prohibited from raising, and suffered miserable loneliness for years! Who protected me then? This is about what I've been through to always be there, to serve you in your times of greatest need when no one else did. You speak of opportunity, yet you want me to act like nothing happened and let her walk free just like before!"
​
Ganondorf's arms trembled with rage at Dora’s continued insubordination. Every ounce of his restraint was exhausted to keep from striking his wife. “You always claimed that you were never jealous of Nabooru, but I can still hear it in your voice.”
​
Scowling, Dora curled her fingers into tight fists, highly aware of the eyes judging their quarrel.
​
“And now you cannot deny the truth that stares you in the face!”
​
“Nabooru will forever be a plague on the Gerudo,” she repeated.
​
“That cannot be denied,” Ganondorf agreed. “After all these years your mind is haunted by the affection I bestowed upon Nabooru to hide my deceit. Yes, I have known her on multiple occasions, but that was necessary.”
​
“You waited too long to act,” Dora disputed. “Her claws were deep into the heart of the Gerudo!”
​
“This is pointless,” he groaned in irritation. “My directive stands. Nabooru is not a priority!”
​
“I refuse to obey,” Dora firmly advised. “I will kill her!”
​
“Get out of my sight!”
​
The evil queen already hurried out of the room with her head held high when Ganondorf’s voice bellowed to chase her away.
​
​
​
Chapter 11
​
Locating Dora was not the problem posed to Ganondorf. He was furious with her and unprepared to cope with her suddenly rebellious attitude. Regardless, their enemies were near, and was concerned for her well being despite his anger. Dora was a phenomenal warrior, but the approaching opponents possessed the potential to eventually overpower her if encountered alone.
​
Ganondorf found Dora in the knight’s training yard, being indiscreet about her rage as she unleashed it upon the logs used for basic sword training. Straw lay in a heap around its base because Dora already destroyed the practice dummy that was tied to the log. The bark was carved entirely away by the vicious blows she delivered.
​
“Have you come to terms with your jealousy?” he called arrogantly, leaning on the doorway that led outside. Dora ignored him and continued to focus on shredding the log down to a splinter as if it represented Nabooru. Ganondorf knew the only way to acquire her attention in this mindset was to make him the target on which she released her hate. He walked forward with purpose, conjuring the Trident of Demise to his open hand. When Dora spun around for her next swing, he thrust the trident forward to catch her scimitar.
​
The Gerudo queen growled at her king, showing no hesitation when she shifted her focus to cut him instead. She slid away the trident to immediately step into an offensive barrage, ready to parry if needed. “How can you possibly fathom the helplessness I felt? How can you possibly grasp my daily outrage of watching Nabooru seduce you for her own personal gain?”
​
Ganondorf allowed Dora to speak, just as he remained on the defensive while she relentlessly attacked. “I admit to being tricked by her fleshly offerings, and indulged in them, but not for long.” His confession was rewarded with a mighty swing that shot sparks when he narrowly blocked. “Soon after, I discovered you and began to think twice about my arranged relationship.”
​
“I never knew you hated her until she tried to have me killed! You only told me you cared about me the night you proposed. I spent years mourning my love for you, thinking I would never be worthy of a shred of your affection or the intimacy I repeatedly watched you share with Nabooru," Dora shouted, at the same time stabbing forward as if to pierce his heart. "How can I expect you, of all people, to comprehend that kind of hurt?”
​
Ganondorf was aware of her deliberate attack when he blocked, and felt a sharp pain like her blade actually connected. The situation became clear in that instant. To break through Dora’s erratic emotions that were concentrated on the past, he needed to be more direct. When she attacked next he parried with the trident and swung his left hand toward Dora’s chest, under the crossed weapons. Before his fist collided, a burst of dark energy exploded into her chest. She soared away, almost striking the wall before she hit the ground. Her scimitar was tightly clutched in her hand when she rushed back to her feet. Ganondorf charged at Dora as she ran at him. When they were merely an arm’s length away, he abandoned his physical form and dove into Dora through her skin to invade her body as a soul. She stumbled back from the force, shocked by the suddenly drastic change in their duel.
​
Ganondorf encountered natural resistance in his attempt to acquire space in her body, but quickly overpowered her fighting spirit. He swam fluidly through her soul, combining with her fire that burned with hate, until his malice reached every crevice of her flesh and he consumed her. The sensation he experienced was not the same loathing that Dora possessed for Zelda, for the misery and torment caused by the royal family. He was surprised to find her hate of Nabooru was coupled with anguish, heartache, and sorrow like Ganondorf never knew could exist.
​
These emotions surfaced in Dora, dragging her to her knees as she was overwhelmed. Ganondorf ravaged her from the inside to bring all of her memories of Nabooru to the forefront, especially those she labored most to forget, all of them images she stored away like ancient drawings. “Stop,” she pleaded, her voice tight. “Get out of my head,” she screamed through clenched teeth, and punched her fist against the ground with enough force to break open skin.
​
Ganondorf dove deeper, to the lonely nights on guard duty when her heart shattered into the smallest fragments. Nabooru constantly taunted Dora about her Sheikah heritage, how her tainted blood would always prevent her from being a worthy candidate as queen and ruined her as a Gerudo. The worst reaction occurred upon seeing Nabooru whisper in Ganondorf’s ear with that deceitful grin full of lies, to watch her take his hand and lead him away to his private chamber. Her eyes held the promise of the vial acts she committed behind closed doors to keep her secret safe. The kisses she stole from him, especially when Dora was present, only served to brag that he belonged to her.
​
Dora never felt these raw emotions so verily before, all at once bringing her blood rapidly to her skin. Her cheeks burned with terrible, restrained fury. Her eyes watered with sadness, and her chest tightened. She fell forward on her hands for support and tried to breathe. Each gasp for air was wasted, as if a hole was torn in her lungs. Pain conquered her and seized her muscles. “Please, I’m begging you,” she cried, her forehead against the ground and hands over her ears. Dora could clearly recall these emotions, but seeing the buried memories again only brought her resentment alive. A ravenous scream escaped her failing lungs.
​
Ganondorf remained suspended, mingled among Dora's soul, deep in contemplation. Before this incident, he was absolutely certain he understood the pain he forced his wife to endure when they were young. After meeting her, when he was only an adolescent approaching maturity, he grew wise to Nabooru's planned betrayal and learned all he had been told about the infamous Ganondora were lies. Ganondorf uncovered the truth and possessing her became his goal, but the path was littered with trials. Nabooru needed to be defeated, but that was easier said than done. With her scheme underway to turn the Gerudo against Ganondorf and bargain with the royal family of Hyrule for their safety, eliminating her as second in command needed to be accomplished carefully. He benefited from keeping her near to know her every move, since she was unaware he already turned her deception against her. Never once did he breathe a word of the truth to Dora, about the complications of his situation, for fear of upsetting the delicate balance of the political games he played. Now he found Dora unendingly downtrodden by her peers, heavily influenced by Nabooru, and treated more unfairly than any typical rookie. Dora was lonely in a village full of her sisters, and was nearly killed by them under Nabooru’s orders. Ganondorf had not anticipated these unintended events as a result of his scheme. It was apparent why mentioning the traitor's name incited irrational behavior from Dora. Because of his carelessness, Dora was left with a scar on her soul, as deep as the gorge in Gerudo Valley, that refused to heal.
​
His next action was obvious: relieve her of this burden. Ganondorf's soul shifted to withdraw from the darkest regions of his wife, conforming to embrace her core. He absorbed her hate, enticing it to join with his own. He took her resentment and sorrow and changed it to loathing that fueled his powerful soul comprised of an infinite reservoir of pure malice. As the Demon King of Evil, Ganondorf was the only one capable of taking her hate to ease her spirit, and at the same time use it to his advantage.
Chapter 12
The agony was unbearable. Dora sobbed into the grass, down on her knees, her cheek in the dirt. She gripped the soft soil in her hands, digging in with her nails and ripping out chunks of the ground. The sides of her fist beat off the dirt until she was bruised, anything to take away the emotional torture she endured. Dora despised Nabooru with every ounce of her energy and these powerful emotions violently ripped from her soul relentlessly bombarded her.
​
Without any cause or reason, the tension restricting her body faded. She filled her lungs with deep breaths that produced tranquility. Her muscles obeyed when she commanded them to roll over and lay on her back to look up at the stars twinkling in the deep blue sky. Ganondorf's soul billowed out of her pours like smoke in the deepest shade of purple. He manifested as the Gerudo king, standing with his feet directly beside Dora's torso. This newly acquired energy coursed through his veins with barbed edges, making his limbs burn. His arms resonated with a dark energy until he brought the hate under control. Ganondorf stepped back and peered down at his wife, broken, ragged, and, although clothed, she was naked in his eyes. Every part of her soul was exposed to him. "I told you this was about you," he said icily.
​
All of Dora’s emotions receded, leaving her numb except to the faintest senses. "I knew I was better than her in every way. I always have been, but that never stopped me from envying her for knowing you in a way I was convinced I never would, and that festered like an infection.” Her voice trembled from the ongoing pain that raked her body. “The sight of her makes my skin crawl because all I see is you involved with her for longer than she deserved."
​
"What would you have said to me back then? How would you have expressed your desires had you the courage?" he wondered, still glaring down at Dora.
​
A restrained groan overflowed from her throat as she rolled over and rose as far as her knees. Dora shifted one foot in front of her so that she knelt before her king with one arm crossed over her torso, a fist in front of her heart. “Your majesty,” she said, forbidding herself to wince. “Nabooru is lying to you. She does not love you as she so deeply professes.” Instead of the knight’s training ground, she envisioned the scenery of the torch lit chamber deep in the Gerudo Fortress where she often discussed the infiltration of Hyrule Castle with Ganondorf. “She only seeks your hand in marriage to secure her position as queen, and then plans to kill you before going to the royal family of Hyrule to make peace. I know this to be a fact, and I swear it on my life, no, on my loyalty to the Gerudo king, the only king this world needs.” Dora raised her eyes from his feet, looking up far to meet his eyes. “I’ve never told you this, but through all of our training together, after talking with you on so many nights when you chased away my loneliness, I need you to know that I do love you. It’s more than that though. I would sacrifice myself for you, to see you become King of Hyrule and claim the Triforce.”
​
“Enough,” he interrupted, with a stern expression. “Your tenacity and ruthless disposition frighten the Gerudo and your superiors report that you are disobedient. You are born of the lowest blood known to the Gerudo, sired by a Sheikah. It is a bold accusation to say that Nabooru is a traitor, and even more to make a declaration of love. Why should I believe you?”
​
Dora knew that his gruff interruption was a reminder to breathe. She smiled softly, took a deep breath, and then continued. “Your hesitation is justified, but my blood has never had any bearing on my upbringing. I have trained to be your lethal weapon, and my superiors have only tried to hold me back. I am thoroughly dedicated to your mission. Forgive me for being so bold, but you don’t need Nabooru. I would willingly do more for you than she ever would dream.”
​
Ganondorf smirked and grunted part of a laugh. “Rise, general,” he ordered, playing along. “I believe, in too many words, you have offered yourself to me as queen. Is that correct?”
​
“Yes,” she said boldly, rising to her full height.
​
“Then let me tell you something that is long overdue. I’m already familiar with Nabooru’s plan. I have plotted her humiliation and already chosen the queen I truly wish to claim,” he advised, and allowed her eyes to fall on the ground as if she were defeated. Ganondorf touched his fingers to Dora’s chin, and slid them along her jaw to tilt her head up and trap her gaze. The moonlight glistened on the flakes of gold sprinkled in her yellow eyes. “That woman is you, Ganondora. I have always known of your dedication to the Goddess of the Sand, and in turn your undying loyalty to me. You might have crafted some intricate lies to convince yourself that you would never be worthy, and tried desperately to hide from the truth, but your love is one of the most magnificent treasures I will ever steal as the King of Thieves.”
​
“Thank you,” she whispered, enlightened, but never beyond words. Dora stepped forward to embrace him, and at the same time he lifted her from the ground with his arms wrapped securely around her waist. She buried her head into his neck, tangling her hands in his mane of amber hair. The safety in his arms melted away the pain that remained in her muscles. “What did you do to me?”
​
“I’ve healed the worst of your scar by consuming your hatred,” Ganondorf explained in a rare moment of tenderness, greedily caressing the back of her head.
​
“I will never forgive her,” Dora insisted.
​
“I never wanted you to. I only want you to forget about her as I have done. She is not worth the energy you waste to resent her actions.”
​
Dora clutched on to Ganondorf, feeling no bigger than a child in his arms. “I will. And when our enemies arrive, I will obey your commands as I have always done.”
​
“Yes. That’s the response I expect from my devoted goddess,” he said smoothly, arrogance returning.
​
Dora laughed, but then suddenly wondered, “Where has Zelda been this whole time?”
​
“In the care of Ghirahim and Zant,” he chuckled evilly.
​
She shifted her head with the goal of kissing Ganondorf on the lips, until a pair of voices interrupted. “Your majesties!”
​
Zant ran ahead and shouted, “It was his fault!”
​
“You nincompoop, you are to blame,” Ghirahim argued nastily.
​
Ganondorf opened his arms and Dora landed balanced on both feet. They turned to the pair of evil subordinates in unison, glaring wickedly.
​
“If you tell me you have lost her not even Hylia will manage to save you from my wrath,” Dora threatened.
​
“Queen Ganondora, you must believe me. Ghirahim was torturing her, but he was careless and let her slip away,” Zant pleaded. “I warned him to be more mindful.”
​
Ghirahim’s pale cheeks turned a faint shade of red with anger. “You were the one in control of her chain. If any one should be punished for her escape it is you!”
​
The squabbling companions dueled with the vicious expressions they exchanged until coming to stand before their master. Zant instantly bowed, leaving Ghirahim alone, upright. Dora raised her hand to smack the disrespectful scowl from his face, but Ganondorf snatched her wrist before she made contact. The next second, Zelda appeared directly in front of the King of Evil, still sprinting. His fingers closed around her short chain, and before she realized her predicament the leash ran out of slack. Zelda’s legs flew out from under her and she landed on her back with a pitiful yelp.
​
Dora stared in awe. “You cunning bastard,” she laughed, accepting the chain he offered.
​
“Idiots,” Ganondorf chastised. “Did you sincerely believe I trusted you with a prisoner as important as Princess Zelda? As long as she remains in these shackles I can summon her from anywhere in Hyrule. You imbeciles have done nothing but fail me since you’ve returned. If this pattern continues through the battle against Link, I will end your lives permanently.”
​
Ghirahim huffed as he turned, throwing his red half cape aside as he stormed back in to the castle.
​
“Queen Ganondora, your royal highness, and my master, I once more apologize on behalf of Ghirahim’s poor behavior,” Zant groveled.
​
“Shut up, Zant,” Ghirahim growled, loud enough for them all to hear.
​
“Just go,” Dora said, waving to dismiss Zant at last. He twisted and hurried to vacate their view.
​
“Oh, princess,” Ganondorf added, suddenly turning his death filled gazed to the blonde Hylian at his feet. “If you’re trying to develop any halfwit ideas on how to escape, know that nothing short of cutting off your arms will suffice.”
​
​
Chapter 13
A battalion of soldiers, ranging from armored Goron warriors to Hylian knights, marched across the rolling fields of tall grass toward Hyrule Castle. Bokoblins and Moblins, led by Aeralfos and Lizalfos captains, charged head on at their master’s command.
​
Ganondora waited in the tower of the observatory located at the front of the castle to oversee the battle. She anxiously gripped the sill of the window she leaned on, longing to add her scimitar to the fray. Her eyes darted between the leaders of the opposing forces. All of their faces were familiar, even if she had only glimpsed them in their previous meeting. Midna was easily distinguished by her unique weapon, a mirror, and her equally outstanding features. Fi was smaller, but her blue and purple attire, and her graceful style was easily spotted. Lana used her book of spells to obliterate bokoblins three at a time. The elder, Rauru, used pure light magic to pave the way to the castle. Finally, Dora found a head of hair as red as a ruby that darted between opponents and cut them down one at a time with two swords.
​
“Link must already be in the castle,” she reasoned calmly.
​
“A wise observation, my queen,” Ganondorf praised, staring at the battle from over her shoulder. “Shall we go to greet our esteemed guest?” he asked with sarcasm.
​
“Yes, we shall welcome him with open arms,” Dora grinned and turned from the window.
​
“Ghirahim! Zant,” Ganondorf called, and they turned to look at him from the floor below. “Go and turn the tides of war in my favor with the power I’ve given you. Don’t waste your time with personal vendettas. Kill Lana!”
​
“Yes, your majesty.” They acknowledged their orders in unison and vanished.
​
“Come, Zelda. Let’s go hunting,” Dora sneered, jerking the chain to make the princess walk. Zelda grunted, but without any other choice, she followed the Queen of Evil. All of her hope rested in the Hero of Hyrule.
​
They reached the great hall, following the carpet toward the throne room when Ganondorf sensed the hero’s spirit. He remained silent about their enemy lurking in the shadows, waiting to liberate Zelda from her imprisonment. Dora was not gifted with a magical skill set. Ganondorf was eager to see if she was aware of his presence.
​
Dora escorted her slave through the threshold to the throne room. “Go on, princess. Call for your hero. I want to hear you scream his name.”
​
Zelda sealed her lips by pressing them firmly together, refusing to comply. The evil queen snatched her yellow hair near the roots on the back of her head, forcing a cry from her mouth.
​
Ganondorf shook his head slowly, chuckling. He delighted in Dora’s entertainment as he continued passed them to relax in his throne as a spectator. As the one in possession of the Triforce, Ganondorf could have simply ended all the fighting, but he adored his queen’s bloodlust. For a time, he would allow her to indulge.
​
“You want to be saved, don’t you?” Dora taunted. Zelda’s response was a pitiful, weak whimper. Dora ripped her head back, pointing her chin to the sky and exposing Zelda’s entire throat. The Gerudo queen drew her blade and intentionally placed it firmly to her victim’s neck with enough pressure to draw droplets of blood that trickled down to Zelda’s collar bone. “Then cry for your hero! Make him come running to your rescue!”
​
“Link,” Zelda mewled.
​
“Louder!”
​
“Link!”
​
Ganondorf began to wonder if Dora knew the hero was directly above her, stealthily positioning himself to strike from the rafters high above near the peak of the ceiling. The king locked his eyes on Dora’s interaction, wondering what her cruel scheme entailed.
​
Link plummeted, both hands on the hilt of the Master Sword that was pointed straight down and aimed to impale Dora’s back. She spun around, having waited far too long for Ganondorf’s preference, and her scimitar collided with the sword to knock Link out of the air. He skidded along the floor on his side and fluidly rolled over to his feet in one nimble move.
​
“Volga? How did you survive?” Link exclaimed in bewilderment. His sapphire eyes widened as the person in the fire dragon armor laughed wickedly. “No,” he growled, narrowing his eyes. “You’re that evil queen!”
​
Ganondorf scoffed loudly at Link’s surprise. Dora achieved the shock for which she strived. “No, Volga did not survive,” she reminded everyone harshly. “And now, hero, you will suffer the consequences for killing a man who was like a son to me. A life for a life,” she declared.
​
“No! Release Zelda,” Link demanded.
​
Dora firmly gripped the shackles and shoved the princess forward as if holding her out to Link like a prize. “All you have to do is take her from me.” Her cocky statement goaded Link into an attack, placing the queen on a heavy defensive stance. He believed to have an advantage as long as Dora dragged Zelda around, and felt bearing the burden of his shield was unnecessary. Link led the battle, cautiously striking, always turning Dora in a circle to her right that kept Zelda out of harm’s way. Dora refused to release the chain, as if it were an extension of her own body, instead jerked it around reluctantly as she danced to avoid the Master Sword. Zelda valiantly worked to avoid the path of the duel, but Ganondorf intently watched Dora divide her attention to curl the chain around her hand slowly, shortening Zelda’s leash.
​
Dora struck fiercely and extended her main arm to brace herself. Link parried, and at the same time she ripped on the leash coiled around her left hand. When his downward swing met with resistance, Link was assured the battle was over, until he heard a faint gasp accompanied by nasty cackling.
​
Link hastily released the hilt of the Master Sword and stepped back in horror. “Zelda,” he breathed, as if attempting to apologize. The hero collapsed to his knees, strength and words failing him.
​
Zelda’s sky blue eyes were wide open before clenching shut in agony a long, quivering breath later. The blade, while intended for the use of fending off evil, was still a sharp-edged weapon and its purpose remained to cut. The sword was buried deep in her waist just below her ribs. His aim had been true, his goal to kill Ganondora, but Zelda was thrust in front of the queen as a shield. Blood poured down her mangy dress, staining it and swiftly pooling on the floor.
​
Dora shoved the princess forward, and watched her stumble, eventually collapsing into Link’s arms where he caught her around the shoulders. He carefully lowered her to the floor with one hand protecting the back of her head. The sun streaming down harshly from the high windows illuminated her pale face, lighting her skin with an angelic glow. "I'm so sorry," Link whimpered pitifully, sweeping her yellow hair away from her face. "Goddesses, do something," he cried out in desperation, unable to bear the suffering in her eyes.
​
“Now you know how it feels, hero,” Dora said darkly. “Mourn, grieve, but in the end I want you to hate me, and yearn to kill me just as badly as I need to kill you!”
​
"Excellent work, Dora," Ganondorf praised with gruff arrogance, impressed by her cunning.
​
"Thank you, my king," she responded, bowing her head briefly in his direction. Dora spun her wrist to loosen the arm wielding her scimitar, preparing for Link's attack.
​
Before the hero made a move, Zelda grasped his gauntlet covered forearm. "The goddesses can help. Their essence is in the Triforce," she reminded quietly.
​
"That's right, Link," Dora taunted menacingly. "You want to save the life of your precious princess? You need the Triforce and you will only get that by killing me!"
​
Link glared at the queen, but only for a moment. When Zelda spoke again, he diverted a sorrowful gaze back to her. He knelt by her side, leaning in close to hear her wisdom. "Take the Master Sword.
​
Whether I live or die you must defeat the evil plaguing Hyrule." He reluctantly obeyed the command of his princess. The hero gripped the flat edges of his sacred blade and drew the sword straight back out of her abdomen with care. Zelda winced and grimaced, finally screaming when air met her wide open wound. Link snatched the hilt, swiftly lifting the Master Sword over his head. He swung it down like a mighty axe about to chop a log, aiming for Zelda's chains to set her free. Sparks flew when the steel met with stone. Zelda vanished before the blade could collide with her iron leash.
​
Ganondorf laughed cruelly, a deep sound that rolled over the length of the room like ominous thunder. His right hand clutched Zelda's shackles, the chain dangling freely. "I'll keep an eye on her for you," he mocked, mercilessly plopping her at his feet in front of the throne. "I will make sure she lives long enough to watch you die."
​
Dora laughed wickedly at seeing Link's contorted expression of horrible anger. She stepped confidently in front of him to block his view of the King of Evil. “I am all that stands in your way. Fight me! I am eager to shed your blood.”
​
Link drew his shield in preparation for a difficult battle, and then charged at Dora, who waited anxiously for him to make the first attack. She minded the shield he attempted to bash into her torso to knock her off balance, and countered with a vicious swing.
​
Chapter 14
The participants in the battle that Ganondorf presided over were ruthless in unleashing their rage, though he knew a secret of which his enemies were unaware. The scimitar Dora wielded was an ancient weapon that he presented to her the day of their union. No one else was capable of wielding the enchanted scimitar with a blade that never dulled. The Goddess of the Sand had chosen Dora as her favorite acolyte and with the weapon she could call on the power of the goddess at any time. Dora’s training, her weapon, and her instinct to kill made her unstoppable. Link’s death was assured.
​
And Dora held nothing back, attacking with her scimitar, fists, and feet. She was a graceful dancer, always moving. Every kick or punch was packed with all her strength. Each fluid motion connected and smoothly carried into the next. Even when Link was fortunate enough to interrupt her routine, she easily recovered, but Ganondorf always tensed. Dora showed no fear in the face of the Master Sword, but he knew the power of the blade stung her the same. The match was not all one sided. Link held his own against the trained Gerudo warrior, which was no small feat and Dora’s frustration mounted.
​
In one swift motion, the Queen of Evil and the hero spun into an attack on one another, Dora aiming high with a horizontal slice while Link aimed low. Both of them stumbled away after striking their targets.
​
“Link,” Zelda gasped, expending all of her energy to remain awake. Link stumbled forward, nearly collapsing entirely. “No, you must fight,” she urged. He regained his balance and arched his torso. A long cut, reaching from one shoulder blade to the other, bled profusely from how deep the curved tip of the scimitar tore into his flesh.
​
Dora limped away, crashing into the wall with her left side. The wound on the back of her thigh dribbled blood, but it was not the cut that caused her severe pain. Her entire right leg seized as the evil repelling power of the blade screamed through her veins and blinded her with white hot agony. She grunted, desperately fighting against the Master Sword’s effects to jump back into battle. Link charged at her and swung his sword as if to cut off her head, but she regained enough sense in time to jerk clear and avoid having her throat sliced.
​
The tension of the battle increased at an alarming rate. Dora’s strikes shifted from wounding the hero for pleasure to deadly, cutting to the chase of taking his life. Link knew his limited time was being wasted and hurried to strike the killing blow, because he had one more opponent to fight to save Zelda.
​
Ganondorf listened to the princess desperately mutter prayers to the goddesses, while he watched blades collide with force enough to send sparks flying in all directions. “You’re wasting your breath,” he grunted, but she only chanted louder.
​
Dora took advantage of her superior height and pressed to overpower Link when they crossed swords. When she came close to overwhelming him, the radiating power of the blade of evil’s bane burned her impure soul. She glared holes through his sapphire eyes into his righteous soul, watching for the slightest hint that his strength was about to fail. “You cannot defeat me, for the Goddess of the Sand favors my victory and I am empowered by the desire to avenge Volga. Even if it is with my last breath, I will see you dead!”
​
“Allow me!” Link grunted and brought his shield in from the side, grinding the front along her face. The corner was driven into her cheek and the sharp designs scratched open her nose and lips. Dora shrieked, hurrying back in retreat from a follow through with the Master Sword. Her vision spun and she clutched her face. Link could not miss the opportunity to defeat the Queen of Evil. Instead of catching his breath, he dropped his shield and rushed at her with both hands on the hilt of the Master Sword. The blade was pointed forward and lifted just over his shoulder, prepared to drive it straight through her heart.
​
Ganondorf feared this would be the moment he would need to intervene. Zelda inhaled harshly, but he sensed her hope that this was certainly the end of the duel. Dora surprised them both when she sidestepped and swung, slicing open Link’s side. He cried out, but instantly spun around to try once more. The queen lifted her wounded leg and smashed her boot into Link’s chest, wincing from the pain of the impact. The scimitar flared to life with dancing, amber flames. When Dora swung again the pent up power ejected from the blade's tip. The energy transformed into the shape of a cobra as it hissed straight through the air, and then exploded into Link’s torso. He was thrown back, smacking into the wall with a sickening thud. Dora hastened to him, but he lifted his main hand and prepared to take advantage of her reckless maneuver that left her wide open. The Gerudo queen expected Link to exploit this error, and grasped his left wrist in her hand to halt his arm. The scimitar simultaneously soared overhead and swiftly chopped through Link’s arm above the gauntlet. He crumbled to his knees, wailing in pain and clutching what remained of his left arm. Dora stepped back to relish in the sight. Her face stung from the scratches, and her leg throbbed from the lingering effects of the Master Sword, but nothing would take away the sadistic pleasure she found in the horrible agony on Link’s face. The Queen of Evil threw Link’s forearm at his chest and it dropped beside his knees. “This is for Volga, for me, and most of all, for the Demon King!”
​
“No, stop,” Zelda screamed, her voice cracking. “Please have mercy! Please do not kill him!”
​
Ganondorf leaned forward and grasped Zelda’s lower jaw in his large hand to cease her blathering. The insides of her cheeks were pressed between her teeth by his fingers as he squeezed tightly. He supported her only by her shackles and mouth when easing the princess up to her feet when he stood from his throne. His grip was firm, entirely preventing her neck from twisting, forcing her to stare straight ahead and witness Link’s death. “Say goodbye, Zelda,” the Demon King whispered deviously with sick satisfaction.
​
Dora leaned forward and sliced the scimitar with incredible speed from left to right. Nothing apparent occurred instantly. In the following seconds, Link’s head slid slightly from his neck and then plummeted from his shoulders to the floor. The headless corpse slumped at Dora’s feet and she kicked it away before blood could spill on her new boots. She stared intently at the body, indulging in the rush of excitement from the thrill of ending the hero's life. The blood pumping through her veins decreased in speed since the battle was over. Her offhand opened and closed into fists to hold on to the adrenaline. "Volga can now rest in peace," Dora said, bringing finality to Link's death.
​
Ganondorf felt Zelda trembling, powerless to help her friend or restrain the tears rushing to her eyes at his hideous death. Her frame was fragile, petite, and simple to manipulate compared to Dora. The thought of snapping Zelda's bones like twigs aroused him. His fingers loosened from their steel grip on her jaw and crept down her neck to twist her around. He lifted her enough to stare directly into her blue eyes full of terror. "There's nothing to fear, princess," he mocked, feigning sympathy. "You've been a good slave, so I'll make your death painless. And don't worry, your kingdom is in my capable hands now."
​
"You monster," Zelda spat, large tears tumbling over her yellow lashes. "There will always be people to fight for what is right!"
​
"A fool's belief. Good riddance!”
​
Ganondorf released a pent up flood of malice that swiftly invaded Zelda. Her limbs instantly began twitching, turning to violent seizures induced by the corruption. His darkness targeted her entire spine and he slowly lowered her until her toes touched the floor. Ganondorf stepped firmly on her chain. Before ending her suffering, he delighted in the darkness swallowing her eyes and blackening her veins. "I promise, this will only hurt a little," he sneered. Ganondorf squeezed her throat as tight as he could until her esophagus closed completely, cutting off any of her screams. Dark power flowed from his hand to infect her flesh, burning away the skin of her neck. The malice infesting her spine loosened the nerves and tendons binding her skeleton together. On his command, the power festering inside exploded, and he yanked straight up. The wide, lifeless eyes of the princess stared beyond Ganondorf. A tendril of bone and sinew hung from the head, oozing blood down the length of his arm. The decapitated body toppled sideways and blood poured out of the mangled neck hole, soaking the carpet under his boots.
​
Dora grinned with satisfaction as she stopped by her throne just outside the reach of the crimson pool. She carefully lifted the helmet from her head and placed it in the seat of her throne. The cuts on her face stung as she gently touched her hand to them to judge their severity. A hiss escaped her and she winced at touching the gash left by the corner of the Hylian shield. “That is going to leave a scar,” she whined.
​
Ganondorf tossed the head of the princess to the middle of the room, where it rolled until meeting Link’s headless corpse. “Only a mark to remind you of your victory this day, my queen,” he reassured. Suddenly, a piercing screech drew their eyes to the windows and a large brown owl soared inside, long wings. Scowling, Ganondorf tossed orbs of evil magic at the owl as it circled the room once and escaped out the window farthest from the thrones.
​
“Rauru,” Dora exclaimed in anger.
​
“Apparently, Lana is still alive,” Ganondorf growled and immediately stepped over the late Princess Zelda to march out of the room.
​
​Dora set out to follow him and yelled, “What are those imbeciles doing?”
​
​
​
Chapter 15
The arrival of Ghirahim and Zant on the battlefield boosted the morale of Ganondorf’s forces. To see them cut through the Hylian knights or anyone willing to lift a sword against the Demon King, as if they were blades of grass, inspired the Moblins and Lizalfos. The minions of evil obeyed their orders. Only their deadly glares challenged their rivals while they made their way to Lana, leaving a trail of dead bodies to mark their path.
​
Midna became highly aware of Zant stomping across the battlefield and obliterating knights beneath his boot. Her fight against the aeralfos captain was forgotten entirely, all thoughts focused on the suffering and torment Zant caused her people. This may not have been the same Twili since the one where she came from was dead, as well as the King of Evil, but she knew he must have committed the same heinous acts. He deserved to be punished, if not for that, then for his hand in the current war torn state of Hyrule. Midna jumped on the opportunity to teach Zant a lesson, and rushed in to attack him by surprise.
​
Fi looked up from the bokoblins that fell to the sharpened metal coating the edges of her arms. A blip appeared in her senses, one that she was all too familiar with, and she searched the hordes of monsters. If the Demon Lord was alive, her duty was to find and defeat him. This mission would become a priority over defeating the masses of demonic creatures. Fi spotted him hurrying toward Lana, which was the opposite of what she anticipated. He should have been after Zelda, Link, or even her, so why Lana? His directive made no difference to hers. She glided across the ground, approaching stealthily, and stopped only to charge up an attack. The energy was released and she burst forward, slamming into her target.
​
Ghirahim grunted as the collision caught him from behind. His objective of destroying Lana as quickly as possible was destroyed, replaced by the need to repay the fool who struck him. When he turned to find it was Fi, the blue one as Zant had referred to her, he cocked an arrogant smirk. “Why, hello there,” he greeted calmly, his rapier pointed at her and prepared for another attack.
​
Fi ignored his words. The sword spirit moved around Ghirahim like a twirling dancer crossing the stage, searching to sink her blades into his skin. Whether the cut inflicted was minor or fatal made no difference. Every bit she damaged him increased her chances of defeating him so he could no longer aid the Demon King. Angered, Ghirahim glared his grey eyes and snapped his fingers. A circle of throwing knives appeared around his head, twisting and spinning to confuse Fi on exactly where they would explode. They all snapped in one direction, pointed straight at her, and launched in the same instant. Fi crossed her arms to deflect the daggers that threatened to pierce her. They bounced off her metallic frame with a ting, except one that skimmed her thigh.
​
The strike did not bring Fi to hesitate. Instead, she had prepared for his next attack, which she predicted with high probability would be at close range. As expected, Ghirahim dashed toward her at speeds so fast he became a blur in her vision. Before he could strike his demon blade through her, a burst of light expelled from her body and stunned him momentarily. This was just enough time for her to transform. The Goddess blade sliced the air in a massive circle, injuring Ghirahim. The pain was tremendous enough that he seethed when he stood. A long cut ran from his left forearm and continued across his torso to the right shoulder.
​
“Ghirahim, you must return. You do not belong here in this time,” Fi informed, calculating the Demon Lord’s next attack and preparing her countermeasures.
​
Growls escaped Ghirahim in response to his bleeding, stinging wound. “It should have been impossible for someone as weak as you to strike me,” he roared in an outrage. “I am more powerful! I can defeat you with ease!“ The fury of this act coursed in his veins, until a realization struck him. “You were lucky this time, but it will not happen again,” he mocked, chuckling. His laughter reeled in his rage, his features melting away from anger to amusement. “We would have made a fine couple, me and you,” he said with a grin. “Two sword spirits, one handsome and devious, the other beautiful and divine. Your grace is like that of a bird. I might have even come to call you my little blue bird.”
​
“Be silent, Ghirahim,” Fi interjected.
​
“No! See, you refuse to let go of that devotion to your filthy goddess, and that is why we will never know how perfect we might have been together!”
​
Fi recognized this fury Ghirahim possessed, which made determining his next attack difficult. The odds were greatest that he would follow his normal pattern, strike from afar first and then run in for a direct hit. A wide circumference of the ground at her feet sprang to life with small portals of a majestic purple that consumed all the light surrounding them. Fi immediately dashed to avoid this familiar attack. Black jagged swords thrust straight up from the voids of darkness, but she was not able to dodge them all. Ghirahim already lunged into his follow through. He became her greatest weakness, the very sword Demise wielded against Hylia, but he commanded his own movements. The massive blade crashed down on Fi from above, crippling her.
​
Ghirahim returned to his human form and inspected the damage he inflicted upon his victim. A shout from behind drew his attention, but chose not to turn his back completely to Fi. Unlike him, Zant was not faring well in his battle. As ruler of the Twilight Realm, Midna was imbued with incredible magic, which Ghirahim saw for the first time. A grin spread open on his lips, then parted by the tongue that escaped as he formed a cruel idea that would entertain him as well as tip the scales of the war for Hyrule. He abandoned the wounded Fi, disregarding her condition.
​
Midna poised the mirror over her shoulder, the intricate designs facing her wounded enemy lying on his back. Zant’s head was tilted back as if staring at the mirror, but his pointed, metal helmet concealed his face. “Now, it is time for you to taste the true power of a leader of the Twilight Realm,” she boasted, preparing to unleash magic upon the Usurper King that would obliterate him. All of a sudden, she stumbled back and the mirror aimed at the sky. “What’s this?” she shouted, angered at whoever just ran into her and pushed her back. Midna directed the mirror in front of her, seeing Ghirahim charge suddenly with his rapier crashing toward her. The blade struck the mirror harmlessly. He continued relentless attacks at incredible speeds, Midna constantly stepping back to gain enough ground for a counter strike. “Who are you? What are you doing?” she snapped, angrily. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, holding the mirror telepathically in front of her. Ghirahim constantly slashed at it, as if he could break through, but all he did was waste stamina.
​
Ghirahim drove Midna back several yards before he stepped in too close for comfort and smashed his rapier to the mirror one last time. He continued pushing, taking one step closer so he could lean forward and speak to Midna without others hearing him over the sound of battle. “You are quite strong, and that magic you wield is terrifying. For someone as powerful as I to notice is a true testament to your skill,” Ghirahim began, playing suave.
​
“What are you talking about?” Midna grunted, holding fast to her mirror that acted as a shield. Ghirahim broke off his attack on her, allowing Midna to push him back out of reach. She commanded the mirror directly in front of her, facing her opponent.
​
“I only mean to say you could be the one to end this pointless battle,” Ghirahim chuckled.
​
“What? How would you propose I do that? Why would you even tell me?”
​
“I stand to gain nothing from this senseless bloodshed, other than claiming a few kills of my own. Win or lose, the outcome for me is the same. I remain a servant to the Demon King,” Ghirahim explained, his rapier now pointed at the ground to signify he would no longer attack.
​
Midna was not going to be played for a fool. Her weapon remained targeted on him to attack at one false move. “I’ll bite. What would I need to do to end this war, to defeat Ganondorf?”
“Simple, really. I’m surprised no one has ever made an attempt before,” Ghirahim advised, smirking. “Ganondorf is in the habit of stealing other people’s possessions, so why not take what he treasures most?”
​
“And what would that be? Aren’t we fighting over what he treasures most? Hyrule? The Triforce? What else could there be?” Midna questioned, irritated. “Or are you just trying to distract me?”
​
“Oh, absolutely not,” Ghirahim replied calmly. “You are forgetting one important factor to every accomplishment Ganondorf has achieved, one person that waits for his return, has even aided in his revival. The only woman who remains blindly devoted to him and asks for nothing in return,” he explained, his tone growing thick with disgust. “Ganondora.”
​
“The Queen of Evil?” Midna breathed, the wheels immediately turning. The mirror lowered as she quickly pieced together a plan. “But, how would I capture her?”
​
“As I said at the beginning, you are strong and powerful. Ganondora possesses no magic as long as she does not have the Scimitar of the Desert Goddess. You should have no trouble, especially if you catch her by surprise,” Ghirahim explained.
​
“I’m not sure. It’s a great risk,” Midna said to herself thoughtfully. The screech of an owl flying toward them made her snap her head to the sky.
​
Lana was suddenly at Midna’s side as the owl landed hurriedly. Ghirahim stared awkwardly at the brown, feathery creature, curious as to its origin. A bright, golden aura surrounded the owl, and when the light faded a bald, rotund man with a white moustache stood there. His expression was distraught. Concerned, Lana asked, “Rauru, what did you find?”
​
“Link. Zelda. Dead,” he said, using their names as short sentences as if he could barely believe the words. “Killed by the King and Queen of Evil.”
​
Midna’s shocked eyes returned to Ghirahim. He stood there with a facade of patience, waiting for them to make their move. “How do I know you won’t immediately run and tell Ganondorf what has happened?” she questioned harshly.
​
A frown creased Ghirahim’s usually handsome face, but he could turn ugly when his patience was lost. “As I said, I gain nothing either way.” He opened his hand and the rapier vanished in a burst of swirling red and black diamonds.
​
Midna’s eyes shimmered with restrained tears, still trying to absorb the information that Rauru reluctantly delivered. “Guys, meet me at the Temple of Souls,” Midna advised in a quivering voice, and then used a Twilight portal from above to disappear.
​
“No, not the queen,” Ghirahim shouted in alarm, rushing back to his companion.
​
Zant sliced his scimitar through a Hylian knight that thought it wise to attack while he recovered. “That will teach you to assume when a man is defenseless,” Zant shouted, driving his scimitar straight through the knight’s torso with some resistance from his chest and mail armor. The knight collapsed and Zant turned to face Ghirahim running to his side. “Wait? What about the queen? What’s happened?”
​
“That Twilight woman just told me she is going to capture the queen. We must hurry back to the castle,” Ghirahim yelled, distraught, grabbing Zant’s forearms to intensify his emotions.
​
“R-right, right,” Zant stammered, conjuring his own Twilight portal to hurry and save the queen.
​
​
Chapter 16
Ganondorf and Dora came to a sudden halt and snapped their heads in unison to the ceiling. A black portal filled with swirling green lines opened up wide in the middle of the throne room. Twirling black squares trickled out and quickly formed Midna in her full Twili form, an intricate silver crown adorning her head. A black cloak with curling, silver designs decorated her shoulders and attached to a hood covered her hair. A skirt of the same design hid one leg, both of them apart already in a battle stance.
​
The Queen of Evil brandished her scimitar, taking up her duty as Ganondorf’s weapon, and prepared to charge at Midna. A white barrier suddenly appeared around Dora in a circle that barely fit around her frame, stopping all movement. The white glow intensified, blinding her, while the purity of the energy singed her corrupted spirit.
​
Before Ganondorf could retaliate in a way that would force Midna to release Dora from this imprisonment, the mirror the Twilight princess used as a weapon appeared over her head. Midna gestured to the floor with her index and middle finger. The mirror followed her commands and consumed Dora as it swiftly passed over her. The scimitar clattered to the stone floor as the hand once holding the weapon disappeared. The blinding light, and Dora, were gone, swallowed up by the mirror.
​
“You know the rules, Ganondorf,” Midna mocked, glancing to the blood stains and corpses on the floor of the throne room. “Now, I have something of yours, so I call the shots!” The Twili spoke with a firm but wavering tone. “Relinquish the throne, surrender the Triforce, and I will consider returning your precious possession.”
​
Ganondorf stepped forward with a dark orb in hand in preparation to attack Midna, but thought better. He could have easily killed Midna, decorating the room with one more body, but then no one could bring Dora back from the Twilight Mirror. “You already know my answer,” he said sternly with a hint of regret.
​
“Pity. I guess there really is no love in that bottomless hole you call a heart. Fine. You have two days to reconsider, or I will kill her,” she said callously.
​
Ghirahim and Zant appeared just in front of where Midna stood, while she simultaneously conjured another portal to escape. The two servants of the Demon King turned their heads left and right, as if searching the area. Zant retracted his helmet and cried out, “She’s gone! The queen is gone!”
​
“This is terrible,” Ghirahim gasped. “What do we do?”
​
“Well, we must go after her, of course,” Zant reasoned, speaking frantically and loudly.
​
Ganondorf twisted and aimed his hand with the swirling orb at the thrones in the back of the room. He unleashed the pent up energy with an echoing, vicious roar. The dark magic danced along the path and crashed between the two stone seats of power, obliterating them. His expression was creased with a frown, accented with an evil glare. Ganondorf took calm steps toward the scimitar, and lifted the weapon delicately. He curled his fingers around the hilt, but his hand more than filled the space behind the hand guard. “No,” Ganondorf advised with a terrifyingly calm anger.
​
“What? Why not?” Ghirahim questioned, perturbed.
​
“Your majesty, you cannot be serious,” Zant exclaimed.
​
Ganondorf glared between his two subordinates, feeling the sparks of concern setting fire to his soul. “She is on her own,” he informed darkly.
​
“He is serious,” Ghirahim said with a sadistic grin, amused by this turn of events. “You are ruthless.”
​
Ganondorf ignored his comment. “The enemy has retreated now that they have her. This battle is over, and I have won. Without the blade imbued with the power of the Desert Goddess, she is without any means of magic. She is alone with only her tenacity and will power.”
​
“Will you go after her?” Zant wondered in melancholy.
​
“In time, once I learn where she has been taken.”
​
“I will find her, and then we can launch a full attack,” the Twili declared.
​
“No, you imbecile,” Ganondorf bellowed with his hands clenched into fists, and Zant flinched. “A full attack will intimidate them. They will flee before we are close, and that may even press their hand to harm or kill her. We will be discreet in how we approach the situation, but our only option may be to wait for Dora to escape on her own.”
​
​
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Chapter 17
Ganondora’s elbow and shoulder collided with cold stone, and the pain of tiny, sharp rocks tearing open skin shot through her arm, making her unexpectedly cry out. She rolled to her back and closed her fingers to tighten her hand around the hilt of her scimitar, only to find it was gone. The white light above glared at her and she thrust her arm over her eyes to hide until it vanished. That energy had frozen her seconds before, rendering her incapable of moving out of the way of the mirror, and the reason she was weaponless. Being absorbed into the device was painless, but she had no idea where she was being released. Dora moved her arm, and the light was replaced by the glaring of Midna’s red eyes.
​
Dora remembered no weapon was needed to beat someone to death as she shot up to pick her fight. A large stone hand with square fingers abruptly flattened her back to the floor. She barely managed to stiffen her neck and prevent her head from smacking the stone.
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“Well, queenie, looks like you’re stuck with us. That beast you call a husband isn’t willing to part with Hyrule or the Triforce in exchange for you,” Midna taunted sourly.
​
“And I would expect no more or less from him,” Dora retorted. “Do not underestimate the wrath he will bring upon you for taking what belongs to him!”
​
“Oh, goddess, you still talk too much!”
​
Dora recognized this voice instantly, but was not berated by the hatred she expected, which was once harbored in her heart. “And you still spread your legs too often,” she sneered.
​
Frowning, Nabooru stood over Dora’s left side, glaring down at her rival indignantly. “Do we have to keep her around?”
​
“If we play our cards right, we can force Ganondorf to forfeit Hyrule, even if it means we must kill her,” Midna instructed with remorse. “I will claim that responsibility if it means Hyrule will find peace, so that none of you will have more blood on your hands.”
​
“Who told you these lies?” Dora questioned aggressively.
​
“Ghirahim,” she answered, feeling devious.
​
“Of course he did! This is just a game to him.”
​
“A game? What do you mean?”
​
Dora laughed derisively and rested her head back on the stone, no longer fighting against the hand that restrained her. “I’m amazed by your ignorance. He doesn’t care about who wins this battle. He’s just drawing it out longer for his own amusement. The only way he benefits is that I’m out of the way because he has grown to despise me. He could have simply killed Lana and the battle would have been over. Instead, he was afraid of being bored. When I tell Ganondorf, that bastard will never be bored again.”
​
Fi floated over to join them, remaining expressionless, but Lana, Nabooru, and Rauru glared at Midna. “Hey, don’t look at me! This is probably still our best bet to get what we want.”
​
“Midna, allow her to stand. I’ll form a cage made of light that will prevent her escape,” Rauru advised in a deep, caring voice. At the same time Midna complied, he waved his hand from left to right in front of him and golden bars formed evenly all around Dora, with a ceiling to keep her confined.
​
Nabooru stood directly opposite the prisoner with only the bars between them. “What if we start sending you back in parts?” she threatened.
​
Standing at last, Dora returned the dirty look with twice the ferocity, despite being a few inches shorter than her fellow Gerudo. “When I married Ganondorf I understood my position, unlike some of us. I have no doubts in my heart or soul that he loves me, but I made him agree to one condition a short while after we were united. If anything happened to me, if it came down to this exact decision, I was to be considered compromised. If I proved weak enough to be captured, I am to be deemed a failure. No one will be coming to my rescue. This is the way I wanted it, because I know how important Hyrule and the Triforce are to him. Kill me, keep me hostage, you’ll get nothing.”
​
“You’re crazy,” Nabooru scoffed, shaking her head in disappointment.
​
“No. I love Ganondorf. I know how his mind works.”
​
“He doesn’t care about you at all,” Minda pointed out.
​
“You might see it that way, but I do not,” Dora argued.
​
“Fine. Considering Link and Zelda are dead,” Midna yelled, “I’m willing to wait around to see if you’re lying!” She spun around, throwing her arms out to her sides, and walked away swiftly, unable to bear the sight of the Gerudo queen’s face any longer.
​
“Looks like Link did us a favor when he scratched up your face,” Nabooru remarked with a snicker.
​
“When I get out of here,” Dora growled, “I’ll do the men in the world a favor and sew your legs together!”
​
Nabooru snarled before turning away from Dora, doing her best to let the snide remarks flow around her like water. “It’s a pleasure to see you behind bars like the wild animal you are,” she said, regaining her confidence. “You possess no wisdom, nor grace or divine beauty. You are no queen, you’re just as much of a monster as Ganondorf!”
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Dora tilted her head up, eyes locked on Nabooru with a cocky smirk. “Thank you.”
​
“It would seem your attempt to insult the evil queen has failed,” Fi noted. “Future attempts have an eighty-nine percent chance of failure also.”
​
“Fi, I’m beginning to dislike you,” Nabooru muttered as she stomped away.
​
Dora walked two steps to the other side of the cage, peering around the room to judge her location. The tall, white walls were cluttered with portraits of the hero, the floor comprised of black and white diamond shaped tiles. “What will you do now?” Dora wondered aloud, turning back to her remaining captors.
​
“We’ll get Ganondorf’s attention,” Lana advised.
​
Dora chuckled, crossed her legs, and sunk to the floor to gently sit. “I’m sure you have his full attention, you just don’t realize that yet,” she advised. “Where are we?”
​
“The Temple of Souls, a place Cia resided in for a time.”
​
“That explains the awful decor,” Dora said in disgust.
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Chapter 18
Ganondorf stood on the balcony extended from the throne room, overlooking the vast market place. In the distance, ranches spotted the fields between the flickering lights of villages scattered around the land of Hyrule. The mountain looming in the distance was calm, a dormant volcano and nothing more. No rain came to relieve the Hyrulean citizens of the remnants of battle, leaving the air to smell heavily of blood and death. A full moon illuminated the dark sky, like a guiding beacon his queen could follow home. The stars shimmered in the cloudless sky, like the golden dust flakes in Dora’s eyes. The night was perfect for an intimate celebration, as if the goddesses mocked his misery.
​
The Master Sword slept where it fell in battle, clutched still in the hero’s maimed hand. Zelda's head and trailing spine rested beside her hero's corpse. Ganondorf intended to leave the scene untouched in a futile attempt to freeze time until Dora returned. How long would he need to wait, if she ever came back at all?
​
Ganondorf exhausted all stamina in every attempt he made that day to search for Dora by extending the reach of his incredible sorcery, but to no avail. Every time he thought he was close, an opposing form of magic skewed his vision. There was never enough time to gather information to guess at the location. Either she was imprisoned by a Sages’ magic, or she was taken somewhere that his darkness could not penetrate, like the temple built around the Master Sword’s pedestal.
​
Frustration boiled in his veins like the rolling lava that once roared within Death Mountain. Ganondorf had agreed to her condition to leave her as a prisoner of war, but only because he believed he could prevent the scenario she feared. His vow was that he would never need to keep his promise, yet no sooner were they celebrating a long awaited victory was Dora ripped away from the festivities.
​
Ganondorf turned from the balcony to enter the throne room, wandering over to the helmet lying on the floor, which Dora had worn during her battle only hours ago. He carried the piece of armor and the scimitar, still clutched in his hand from earlier, as he exited the chamber into the hall. Were these all he would have to remember her by if the worst came to pass? Was this the agony Dora faced when he was plucked out of her life?
​
No. He lived in a luxurious castle, with as many servants and subjects as he needed, and however many more he desired. He could feast every night and sleep in a soft, albeit lonely, bed. Dora, in his absences, ran from knights like a hunted criminal, slept in caves on the dirt with rocks as pillows, cooked birds, lizards, or mice over a fire, if one could be ignited, for her only source of nutrition, or else she risked falling prey to the creatures of Hyrule. All this she endured so that she would be at his side with her undying, tenacious dedication when he was strong enough to return and strike fear in the hearts of his enemies.
​
Ganondorf’s contemplation drove him to a great hall, where a large hearth was alive with flames fending off the cold and heating the room gradually. He sat in a chair close to the fire, deep in thought, and placed the helmet directly beside him on the table. His eyes scanned the engravings along the length of the scimitar, made plain by the flickering light of the fire. The Gerudo letters from an age long past spelled her full name, Ganondora. He pressed the center of his thumb to the curve of the blade, and it was sharp enough to draw blood with the softest touch. He watched the blood seep from the tiny cut and drop to the floor. Ganondorf’s hand relaxed, allowing the scimitar to droop until the tip struck on stone between his feet. How did Dora expect him to sit by idly without any concept of her safety? How could he abandon the gift given to him by the Goddess of the Sand?
​
“Curse you and your foolish promises,” he grumbled. “And myself for agreeing, for being captivated by your divine beauty, enchanted by your fiery heart and fierce spirit that you readily sacrificed to me in exchange for the only sliver of love to be found in my dark soul.”
​
The scimitar blade came alive, glistening with an amber energy. The aura grew, escaping the blade, and mutated into the same king cobra that attacked the hero. The snake was not hostile, instead it slithered around and up the length of his right arm. As it passed from one shoulder to the other, across the back of his neck, a calm breeze filled with serenity met his face. He watched the cobra coil around his arm and then dive into the back of his left hand where the energy was absorbed. The addition of this power caused the Triforce to resonate and the golden glow outshined the fire in the hearth. Ganondorf closed his eyes and concentrated on the power flowing through his veins, a mix of his own and the Goddess of the Sand. He held tight to the hilt of the scimitar as his mind was whisked away through Hyrule. The scene of the fields transitioned to images of different villages, to the rippling lake reflecting the full moon, then deep through the thick forest, and finally to a manson with a courtyard decorated by roses of the purest red and statues of the hero from across the ages. The moving pictures in his mind’s eye flew through an opening in the roof like a swooping bird. A cage imbued with light magic came into view, and upon closer inspection he located Dora, confined in the makeshift prison but unharmed. The way she rested with her legs crossed and hands over her knees, she could have been the Desert Goddess reborn. Her eyes flickered open, staring directly at him, as if he actually stood close enough to reach out and touch her.
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Ganondorf’s eyes snapped open, seeing the roaring fire in the hearth, and then staring down at the scimitar. “The Temple of Souls,” he murmured. “She is going to be furious, but this is a promise I cannot keep.”
​
Truthfully, this tactic was out of the ordinary for his adversaries. The more consideration he gave to the idea, the more he was convinced that one of his own planted the seed for this scheme. If that were the case, it was little wonder who he needed point a finger at.
​
“My king,” called Zant’s voice, prompting Ganondorf to stand. Ghirahim was with him, but he remained silent. “Are you well? I have never seen you sulk this way before.”
​
“Really, Zant you mustn’t be so heartless! Our dear King of Evil has lost his wife, captured by those brutes,” Ghirahim reminded in his usual arrogant tone.
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Ganondorf’s jaw clenched at the Demon Lord’s snide remark as he placed the scimitar on the table beside the helmet for the dragon knight armor. He approached his two subordinates, stopping only when they were just out of arm’s reach. “I have found her,” he informed.
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“Oh?” Ghirahim questioned, surprised.
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“Yes.”
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“You must tell us where she is. We can go and bring the queen home,” Zant exclaimed with new energy.
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“You are simple minded, Zant,” Ganondorf mocked, unamused. “Have you stopped to consider the purpose behind Midna’s motives?”
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Zant’s face scrunched up in thought, but Ghirahim quickly stepped up to correct their master. “She made it perfectly clear. The queen will be returned in exchange for Hyrule and the Triforce.”
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“This tactic is direct, and unsettling as it is out of character for the others. Midna even went as far to say she would kill Ganondora if I did not meet her terms,” Ganondorf informed plainly.
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“Well, you did slaughter the hero and the princess,” Ghirahim pointed out. “Midna must be furious. It is only reasonable she would respond with drastic measures. It’s not as if her highness is exactly innocent,” he added with disdain.
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Ganondorf smirked, briefly reminded of all the lives taken in his name, and other unmentionable acts that made his wife immoral. “Regardless, not one of them would believe I am capable of a selfless act, to think I would forfeit what is rightfully mine in exchange for Ganondora’s life.”
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“Heh. You’ve forgotten Nabooru! No doubt she would go to great lengths to do something this deplorable to the queen.”
​
Ganondorf drew his main hand back abruptly and planted his feet firmly to thrust his arm forward, elbow locked. Tendrils that were extensions of the dark power brewing in his soul sped from the center of his palm. Ghirahim was caught by complete surprise, leaving no time to defend after he conjured his rapier from a flourish of diamonds. His throat was completely entangled by the physical manifestation of Ganondorf’s sorcery, and his arms pinned to his torso. Malice pumped heavily through the dark tentacles, coating them with short red flames. Ghirahim was brought to his knees as he coughed and gagged to breathe.
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Zant stepped back cautiously, not wanting to be the next victim the Demon King unleashed his fury upon.
​
“Traitor,” Ganondorf roared, his hatred intensifying the crimson fire. “You have always seen Ganondora as a nuisance, an obstacle holding me back. You leapt at the opportunity to be rid of her for one of your pointless games!” Ghirahim struggled to deny the accusations made by the Demon King, his voice strained and words incoherent. Ganondorf commanded his power to lift his minion from the floor and brought him closer by gradually withdrawing the dark tendrils. “I know you, Ghirahim. You’ll try to use your deceitful tongue to dance your way out of this punishment, but there is no escape. The least you could do is be humble. Admit your mistake and I might find a new use for you.”
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Ganondorf lowered Ghirahim to the floor to bow at his feet, and loosened his hold on the demon’s neck just enough for him to take in a sharp breath of air that would let him speak. “Never,” Ghirahim choked. The representation of his magic, a flurry of floating diamonds, surrounded him to help him escape. Ganondorf tightened his grip around the Demon Lord’s throat and injected him with enough malice to kill the average Hylian. The diamonds that twirled in the air clattered as they dropped to the floor.
​
“My power has overwhelmed you, rendering your magic tricks useless,” Ganondorf mocked, glaring at his victim with pure hatred. The fire that symbolized the malice in his sorcery, conjured from the hatred comprising his heart, crawled toward Ghirahim and spread over his entire body until he was smothered. The enchanted flames ravenously consumed him, devouring him from the inside out. When his tortured screams, echoing from the hall to the corridors, reached a deafening volume, Ganondorf curled his fingers into a trembling fist that disconnected his power to Ghirahim. The red flames fizzled out as they reached his core, and he vanished with them.
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Zant gasped, shivering down to his bones with fear. “Eek! He’s gone! Is he dead?”
​
"No,” Ganondorf answered, anger receding. “Before long, he will wish for death, and regret that he refused to admit the wrong he has done Ganondora.”
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“Your majesty, my master,” Zant said, nearly groveling with his hands clasped together. “I swear, I would have prevented this incident had I known his intentions. I am nothing but loyal-.”
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“Loyal and incompetent,” Ganondorf interjected. “When I bring Ghirahim back I may consider experimenting on a way to combine the two of you into one perfect minion.”
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Zant inhaled sharply with an audible shriek, the edges of his mind shriveling to hide from the thought. “Anything, master, anything but that,” he begged.
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Ganondorf smirked, feeling a tad more light spirited since delivering Ghirahim’s severe punishment. “Then I will need to give you the opportunity to prove your worth. Dora is being held at the Temple of Souls at the edge of Hyrule.”
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“Do you have a plan?”
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“You. Go there and offer to take her place, but they must not be made aware that I sent you,” he commanded. “As far as they are concerned, you are there of your own accord.”
​
“And you expect them to accept this arrangement?” Zant asked, bewildered.
​
“Ha! Of course not. They may engage in battle with you, or ignore you and expect you to retreat. Either way, you will force their hand. All you have to do is free Ganondora of her cage, return her scimitar, and she can do the rest. Once you complete that objective, your only focus must be Lana. All other adversaries will return to their time once she is eliminated.”
​
Zant bowed graciously, down on one knee. “It is an honor. I will not fail you, master.”
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Chapter 19
“Midna,” Lana called, sprinting up the stairs to reach the central room of the mansion. “Zant is here. He requests to speak with you.”
​
“Zant?” Dora wondered, a laugh stifled by a miserable groan as she rose to her feet. Foggy from exhaustion, she tried to wrap her thoughts around why he might have come. The square area of floor within her prison was only room enough to sit comfortably with her legs crossed, and she did not dare lean on the bars to rest. They were composed of pure energy that would cause her excruciating pain at the slightest touch. The energy radiating from the bars was enough to cause her constant discomfort, contributing to her lack of sleep.
​
“A trap,” Midna surmised, her long eyes glaring and a soundless snarl shaping her lips. “Nabooru, Fi, please come with me. Lana and Rauru, guard the prisoner,” Midna requested.
​
“Is he alone?” Dora wondered. At first she thought Zant's appearance was a joke or a lie crafted by her enemies, but then she wondered if Ganondorf sent him.
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“Yes,” Lana answered.
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“I will be prepared all the same. Zant can be dangerous if he wants to be,” Midna explained, and then headed out to greet him.
​
Zant straightened his spine from leaning over a rose bush and inspecting the heavily scented petals when he heard approaching footsteps. The pale moon gleamed on his white face as he glared at the group. “Zant,” Midna shouted angrily, walking swiftly on bare feet toward the courtyard where he waited. His helmet was retracted, offering a facade of weakness. He twisted to face Midna and scowled, matching her expression. The merciful clouds overhead thickened, blotting out the moon light and darkening the atmosphere altogether.
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“You may not be the same sister I despise, but I still cannot stand your attitude,” Zant remarked calmly.
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“Why has Ganondorf sent you here? I release your horrible queen under one condition,” she reminded sternly.
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“You insult me,” Zant answered. “Do you truly feel I am such a puppet that I require permission to come here?”
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“You do call that disgusting beast your god and master,” she argued.
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“That may be so, and he certainly has earned that right, but I have come here for my own reasons.”
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“For what purpose?”
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“To take the place of my queen.”
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Midna burst into laughter, a crude sound that echoed through the courtyards. Fi floated by her side, completely emotionless in response to Zant’s proclamation, while Nabooru stared at the Twilight Princess and waited for her fit of laughter to end.
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“Really, Midna, that is not befitting of a princess,” Zant mocked. “I’m sincere. Trade me for her.”
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“Ganondorf cares less for you than he does her, of that much I’m certain,” Midna said, declining his offer.
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Zant grinned with lips slightly parted before he spoke. “That only proves how little you know of the Demon King. Ganondora, Ghirahim, myself, and even Volga, we are all just a means to an end,” he said with grim sincerity. “Our lives have no worth to him, each of us a sacrificial pawn. I care for the queen though, and she does not deserve this fate. If you must have a prisoner, I would gladly take her place.”
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Midna looked between Nabooru and Fi, composed but bewildered by Zant’s claim. Fi offered her advice. “I detect only a seventeen percent chance he is telling the truth,” she said in a neutral tone.
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The Twilight Princess closed her hands into fists. “Leave, before I remove you as a threat to Hyrule,” she threatened.
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“I have come offering a peaceful solution, and this is the treatment I receive?” Zant countered, his voice rising in pitch and octave.
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“Because this selfless idea of yours holds no logic! Ganondora is just as dangerous as the King of Evil and I would never release her unless it was unto death. You are the lesser threat, easier to eliminate from being an obstacle. Ganondorf still reigns as king with his wicked wife, and now all I have is a power hungry lunatic? I don’t think so. Clearly, your only purpose here was to distract us so that you can help Ganondora escape!”
​
Zant scowled at Midna, and before she could finish accusing him of trying to trick her, he broke down into particles of Twilight magic and vanished.
​
Dora shifted her eyes to the tall, slanted ceiling when she sensed the energy in the room darken. Foolishly, she prayed before her next breath that Ganondorf would appear, but his power would have been detected miles away, and was nearly impossible to conceal. She smiled when Zant reformed from the swirling squares of magic that always amazed her. He levitated in midair, held in place by the orb expanding over his head. Before Rauru or Lana could escape or retaliate to prevent his attack, he launched the orb, targeting the area between them. The explosion shifted Dora’s cage across the floor and sent his enemies flying in separate directions.
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Zant alighted and rushed toward Dora. She favored her shoulder, having bumped the bars during the explosion of his magic. The Usurper King revealed the scimitar from within his heavy robe and held the hilt to Dora, while carefully handling the blade wrapped in leather and rope. She hurried to reach for her sacred weapon when suddenly Zant was blown away by a burst of energy from the Mirror of Twilight. The scimitar was thrown from his hand and clattered to the floor. He struck the wall, but deployed his helmet in time to prevent major injuries. Zant instantly retaliated to buy Dora precious time.
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The scimitar landed just out of her reach. There was a slight chance she could stretch her arm far enough to clip the end of a rope with her fingertips and pull it closer. There was little time to debate whether the suffering she would endure was worth the risk. Dora acted on her reckless instinct and shoved her arm through the bars until her upper arm near her shoulder was squeezed between them. The energy shocked her like being struck by lightning. Agony burned through her veins and she grit her teeth to refrain from releasing her pain by screaming out loud. Dora pressed her boot on the bars behind her to force her arm out further just a couple more inches, but that pressed her injured cheek to the bars. The pain was blinding and stole her breath. Finally, her fingers grazed the stiff fiber of the rope. She snatched a strand between her first two fingers and dragged the scimitar across the floor. Once within reach, she yanked it inside her cage and removed the makeshift scabbard. Dora breathed fast and heavy, grunting at the pain and allowing a few cries to escape her since she secured her scimitar. The hilt grasped firmly in her hand, she began to feel the power of the Goddess of the Sand flow into her veins and replace the opposing light energy. Just as the pain faded, the sweat coating her face and hands began to dry, Dora watched Midna soar toward the cage, thrown across the room by Zant. Her collision with the top of the cage made it tilt back and topple over on its side. Ganondora was free, and ready to spill their blood as retribution.
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Chapter 20
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Dora narrowed her eyes on Lana drawing her Sorceress Tome to attack, making the blue-haired girl her primary target. The others would be desperate to protect her in an effort to prevent their departure before Hyrule was set right. The throbbing of the infectious light faded as Dora tightened her curled fingers around the hilt of the scimitar. Her bruised and gashed face enhanced the predatory glare in her eyes as she focused on her target and chose the best method of death.
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Fi and Nabooru emerged from the stairs and into the room, shocked at first by what they found. Dora grasped the opportunity and sprinted at Lana, leaping out of the way of one of her attacks that looked like lightning. The scimitar sang through the air, and Dora’s hunger for vengeance fed her immeasurable speed. She knew if this attack was not the one to kill Lana, a terrible fight would ensue, so the Queen of Evil charged her blade with the power of the Goddess of the Sand.
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Rauru was swifter. Lana lunged back to avoid Dora’s slice, but that would not have been enough to save her without Rauru’s interference. He was not the fastest or most agile fighter, but he masterfully commanded the power of light. A stream of magic darted through the small space between Dora and Lana, causing the queen to backpedal.
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Dora snarled angrily, checking the positions of all of her opponents. Midna was intensely engaged in a battle with Zant that would not end quickly. Fi danced to attack, but Dora knew the dangers posed by her lethal arms. There was no time to waste.
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“Lana, you must leave here. If anything happens to you, this world will plummet into darkness. There will be no one left to fight,” Rauru shouted from his ranged position.
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“There will always be good to fight the evil,” Lana corrected, and braced herself for battle.
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“Fools,” Dora shouted from the bottom of her lungs. As Fi closed in, Dora held her scimitar stiffly to stop her incessant spinning, and then kicked her away with a boot to the chest. The Gerudo queen rushed to attack Lana again, only to find her scimitar clashed with another blade.
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“I will kill you myself, if that’s what it takes,” Nabooru growled, supporting her sword with two hands and all of her strength.
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The blades slid against each other, throwing sparks, and only stopped once the hand guards clashed. “I loathe you, and nothing would bring me greater pleasure than slitting your throat just to stand over you as I watch the life fade from your eyes, you rat. You stole much from me, but my directive is to kill Lana and you are in my way!” Dora yelled a battle cry, and a surge of amber energy exploded from her blade as she tilted the tip toward Nabooru and thrust forward. Nabooru was thrown back, her body suffering the onslaught of power from the goddess she denied. She hit the floor and rolled, slow to recover her senses as Dora already returned her focus to Lana.
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Six luminescent barriers appeared around Dora, three on each side, but she refused to hesitate. Lana swiped her hand through the air, commanding the barriers to shatter and expel their massive energy. Dora reached the final set of barriers in front of her enemy, at the same time they exploded. Her weapon was poised to strike as she lunged through the air to avoid being injured. A protective energy surrounded Dora, shielding her from the worst of the blast, and her scimitar bounced off metal with a resounding clang.
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The Queen of Evil's frustration was on the rise. Fi stood in her path, immediately forcing her into a defensive routine. The sword spirit resonated with a golden glow, a power Dora recognized as belonging to Rauru, meaning any magical attacks Fi used would be reinforced. They coordinated well with little communication, leaving Dora at a greater disadvantage. She felt the scales tip, placing the odds in favor of her enemy. Much energy would be wasted continuing to block or evade Fi, so the queen hurried to find an attack that could wound her opponent with swords as arms and a metallic body.
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Dora's advanced skill in sword play did nothing to prevent her from receiving multiple cuts from Fi, deep enough to sting but only draw drops of blood. She was forced into retreat. Each step back was closer to failure, and Dora refused to accept that as the outcome. Ganondorf had come so far, capturing the Triforce, conquering Hyrule Castle and soon all of the country. She needed to be there at his side as his dominion expanded, to see the world torn asunder once more by his evil. A hundred enemies could stand in her way and she would slaughter them all, until her dying breath, to return to him. This fierce devotion burned in her spirit, bringing a fiery aura to the scimitar she wielded. The spinning blades of Fi gave pause as she charged to attack. An orb of light exploded as quickly as it appeared, stunning Dora. The sword spirit flew in sporadic directions all around her while she was stunned, each pass cutting through Dora’s armor and deep into her skin, forcing painful cries from her lungs. The petrifying power the light held over her faded, and she spun to swing and meet Fi's neck on her next pass. The curved edge of the flaming scimitar met with firm resistance. Fi came to an abrupt halt, the blade lodged inches deep between her neck and shoulder.
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Bleeding and seething, Dora wasted no time in trying to force the blade deeper into Fi's metal flesh, knowing she was lucky enough to have inflicted that much damage. She turned to face the room, and found a new opponent rushing toward her. Dora raised her arm as she twisted at the waist, and the back of her bracers smashed into Lana's face. The girl shrieked from the initial impact, and then again upon colliding with the overturned cage. Dora looked up to find Nabooru raced toward her after recovering from their last scuffle, and Rauru was now engaged with Zant, aiding Midna in her losing battle. The Queen of Evil gambled and rushed at Lana, scimitar aimed low. A defensive luminescent barrier, a thick wall to block Dora out, appeared directly in front of Lana. Dora swung from right to left in a wide arc, the power of the Desert Goddess slicing through the barrier, and cleaved the girl's torso.
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Dora was roughly yanked back in the next second by an arm wrapped around her throat. A guttural, pain filled groan spilled from her mouth as the tip of a sword broke through flesh the blade was shoved through her back at a deep angle. Any air in her lungs escaped when the sword twisted on the way back out. Dora was freed from the arm that restrained her, and collapsed straight to the floor on her hands and knees. She struggled to take air back into her lungs, and each breath sent a searing pain from her deep wound. Lana was dead, so her enemies would soon vanish. Dora strained her neck to turn as far as she could and lay eyes on her attacker.
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"Nabooru," the Gerudo queen grunted, enraged. Dora collapsed on her side, wincing as the impact sent sharp pains through her torso.
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"Good bye, Dora. May Hyrule find hope in your death to rise up and fight evil," Nabooru said with a satisfied grin, waving as she faded from the realm to return to her own place in time.
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Zant's blade, drawn back and prepared to impale Midna, struck the wall but no flesh. He spinning wildly to find that all of the opponents had vanished, and even Queen Ganondora.
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"Zant," Dora called out, her voice wavering with the excruciating pain dominating her nerves.
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He followed her voice and hurried to her lying on the floor beside Lana's split corpse. "Your majesty! Who did this to you?"
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Dora grimaced to roll slightly, scimitar clutched in one hand, the other pressed to her abdomen. The sword penetrated deep, but there was no exit wound. "The rat," she advised, finding that speech became increasingly difficult. An amber aura surrounded her hand and spread to her stomach, beginning the long healing process.
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"I must return you to the castle," Zant exclaimed, realizing that the excess blood staining the floor belonged to her. "You will die if not properly treated."
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As he leaned over to help her stand, or even carry her if needed, she verbally lashed out. "Leave me alone, Zant. Did Ganondorf send you?"
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Zant righted his spine and retracted his helmet into the device on the back of his neck. "Yes," he answered solemnly. "Ghirahim was punished for his deceit and I was ordered to aid in your escape as a way of proving my worth."
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Words abandoned them, the silence filled only by Dora's heavy but controlled breathing. Every sharp intake of air during the healing process made Zant jump out of his skin. Several minutes passed with Dora's hand pressed hard to her side, giving her a way to concentrate the energy of the goddess flowing through her from the scimitar to a specific area. She moved her hand to her face, closing up some of the cuts and gashes that spoiled her beauty. After one more big cleansing breath, she rolled to her front and pushed herself up an inch at a time, until she reluctantly accepted Zant's misshapen hand to stand on her own feet. Streams of golden sun awakening the land of Hyrule bled through the cracks in the roof of the mansion, destroyed by numerous battles, and chased away the cold darkness of night. "The sun rises on a new day, the dawn of the true King and Queen of Hyrule. Take me home," Dora ordered. “I want to share this day with my husband.”
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Chapter 21
The Demon King descended the stairs from the master chamber, walking with his hands folded behind his back, toward the dining hall. All of his faith was placed in that fool, that excuse for a Twilight King, to bring back someone as significant as his wife. Brooding, he entered the hall, a breakfast buffet laid out on the table by the chefs and servants eager to prove their new loyalty. He reached the seat at the head of the table, but before he could sit in the large wooden chair he was distracted by the voice of a goddess.
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"Ganondorf!"
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Dora's voice carried through the corridor into the dining room. He stepped out around the table and walked toward the doorway. As eager as he was to hold her in his arms, he also prepared to be slapped, or even punched, for breaking his promise. This thought lifted his lips into a smirk as he entered the corridor.
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Only, his evil smirk instantly faded.
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The battle with Lana and the others. Dora had won, but did not emerge unscathed. Blood covered all the areas where her armor was ripped away and exposed flesh. Loss of strength was obvious by the way she limped, fighting to force one foot in front of the other to reach him and fall into his protective embrace.
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The wave of relief that washed over Ganondorf was already replaced with disquieted dread. He quickly stepped toward her, his arms out just in time for her to collapse when the couple finally converged in the corridor. All of her weight rested in his supportive arms. She turned her yellow eyes up to him wearily, and smiled. “You broke your promise.”
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“You never believed for a moment that I was sincere, nor was it a promise you wanted me to keep,” Ganondorf countered, and then dipped down to move one arm behind her legs. He swept her feet out from under her and carried her into the dining hall, but she winced as if he injured her in the act. “Do I need to ask why you are tattered and torn?”
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“Lana is dead, our enemies returned to where they belong to ruin someone else’s life, that is all that matters,” Dora said stubbornly, but she shivered as Ganondorf lay her across the end of the table opposite the breakfast arrangement.
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“That wound in your back,” Ganondorf pointed out, carefully maneuvering her by her hips and shoulders to position her sideways. “It still bleeds.”
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“I know. Please, it will be fine,” she pleaded, trying to summon the Goddess of the Sand’s energy to heal again.
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He traced his finger along the bottom edge of what was certainly the entry point of a sword, and his jaw clenched at finding the gash was still wide open. “All of your wounds wreak with the power of Sages. Nabooru?”
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Dora hissed at the burn of his finger along the opening to her internal organs. “Yes. She stabbed me from behind like a coward, just after I killed Lana. Her sword ran as deep as her hatred. Rauru and Fi are to thank for the rest.”
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“This wound must be closed or else an infection will fester. You know what I must do,” Ganondorf warned, and began to remove the dragon knight armor. Underneath, Dora was dressed in basic leather to conceal her most private places reserved for him alone to see. He remained calm, avoiding thoughts that her death could be imminent, as he gradually exposed her piece by piece. Any light that Ganondorf might have once wielded when his sorcery training first began was gone, no traces left behind to discover even after much meditation. At first, he thought all hope for his ability to heal others might have been lost. Healing with only the darkest magic was effective, but extremely painful, and the process alone could be the cause of death. “Relax,” he said gruffly, and offered his left hand to her.
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A sheen of sweat covered Dora’s face but she longed to be in front of a warm fire. Closing her eyes this time could be the last if she did not allow Ganondorf to offer his power. “I’m ready,” she replied, grasping his hand.
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Ganondorf’s palm covered the entire wound. A concentration of dark magic expelled from his hand gradually, transferring into the cavity in her side. Her grip on his hand tightened until his knuckles squeezed together and her nails dug into his skin. Dora’s body grew completely rigid, her spine arching grotesquely. A howl erupted from her throat. Ganondorf could not help but find some pleasure in the sound of her screams echoing in the dining hall. Dora kicked her legs, the heel of her boots denting the soft wooden surface of the table.
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Dark magic was never intended to be used as a means to heal, only destruction and pain. Ganondorf was too powerful to believe there was no alternative. His corrupt sorcery invaded Dora, concentrated only on her severed sinew and organs, piecing her innards together. Light magic encouraged the body to heal naturally, but he forced an aggressive regeneration process through the use of his malice. Ganondorf was confident in her ability to survive this process. The eons of being united impressed his dark power on her. While she was not able to wield this energy as magic, the darkness was every bit a part of her as it was him. The pure light clumsily wielded by Zelda, the Master Sword swung by Link as if it were a toy, all of it tortured Dora and Ganondorf equally. Anyone else would have died in his attempt to heal them, rendering it an ability useless to anyone but the King and Queen of Evil.
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Only a few minutes passed, but they were as long as hours to Dora, writhing on the table and begging for the pain to end. Ganondorf moved his hand from her back. The wound was closed, but a temporary mark as black as shadow remained. She curled into a ball, her abdomen violently contracting in knots as if it might burst. Her screaming turned to grunts between seething, and then to labored breathing. Dora was able to roll and face Ganondorf, only hindered by some extreme discomfort. He aided her to sit at the edge of the table and she embraced him, pressing her face into his chest.
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Ganondorf lifted Dora from the table and placed her beside him on her feet. “Come with me,” he directed, watching her wipe beads of sweat from her forehead. She interlocked her arm with the one he offered, and then followed him obediently. When they reached the destination he had planned, a smile lit not only her face, but the entire throne room.
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“Did you leave them just for me?” she asked, delighted as if he just surprised her with a dozen red roses.
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“I wanted to finish celebrating where we left off when you returned,” he said, wrapping his fingers around her shoulder, turning her to face him.
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She smiled adoringly up at his grinning expression. “And what if a month or more passed before I was able to return? What if our reunion happened a year later?”
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“The corpses would have rotted where they lay. This room would have remained untouched until I could properly celebrate with my queen,” Ganondorf said darkly, and kissed Dora.
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She returned the kiss, but with a knowing grin. “You never intended to leave me in the hands of the enemy, did you?”
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“Never. Hyrule, the Triforce, I could never discard that which I have obtained--.”
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“I would never ask you to, my love. That would be foolish,” Dora interjected sincerely, reassuring him of that decision, but her grin faded.
“Every stone in Hyrule would be overturned in my search for you, a trail of bodies, villages burned to the ground, until I possessed you again,” Ganondorf firmly admitted, wrapping his arms greedily around her shoulders.
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Dora rested her arms around his waist and felt his lips press to the top of her head. A feeling of serenity washed over her from the security of his embrace. This was home, where nothing could ever bring her harm, where she could always find love and solace. Dora glanced at the headless corpses of the reincarnation of Hylia and her reborn hero decorating the floor beside glistening pools of dark crimson.
A satisfied grin stretched her lips as she recalled the battle. She lifted her head to gaze at Ganondorf, and said, “I love you too.”