Mother

I've been persuaded to share some more information about my mother. This is not easy for me to share. Thanks, Ganondorf.

As any typical Gerudo mother, she loved me dearly. Our training for thick skin does not start with our mentors, it starts with our mothers. Oh, she knew what was in store for me when she gave me my name. Despite how I tried to insist that my name was Dora, everyone knew the whole truth. My rival made sure of that. She was older than Ganondorf and I, but that gave her no advantage. My mother often scolded me about my desire to alter my name, and insisted I be proud of it. "You must display your name as if it were the blood of your enemy!" She would yell. I know our neighbors heard it every time. "This name will bring change to the Gerudo. We have become far too content with our place in this world and have forgotten that we are more powerful than the Hylians dare admit."

I obeyed her word, and when asked for my name I portrayed no fear or hesitation when giving it in full. It was even better when I was able to add his last name to it. For all I know, I did not have a last name before that.

It was my mother who pushed me to keep fighting against my trainers when they gave me poor treatment. She drilled it into my head to turn their actions to my advantage. She said, "Stop whining, girl!" Mind you, all Gerudo started training the day they turned twelve. "Rise to the challenges they set for you. In the end, you will be stronger for it. You will make them regret how they treated you. Your skill frightens them, child," she would add lovingly. "They will do everything to hold you back, so you must show them that nothing will keep you down." She repeated those exact words to me every time I wanted to quit, and renewed my determination. She made sure I celebrated all accomplishments, even if it was just an extra piece of fruit or an extra cup of water. It was never without the reminder that one achievement opened the door to many other goals and opportunities.

My mom was the first one to tell me Ganondorf was the leader the Gerudo needed. In a way, you could say she planted the seed of admiration that blossomed into infatuation. When I told her about the first night I really met him, where we talked late into the night, she teased me. "So, you think you have a chance with the born king?"

"No!" I answered, offended. "Never. Anyway, he will probably forget all about me," I retorted.

"You're just giving up?" she mocked. I remember the sizzling of dinner, and the aroma filling the air.

"What do you mean, give up?" I questioned. "I have no desire to chase after anyone, and no interest in love. My duty is to my training."

"Why do you lie to yourself?" she wondered.

"What?"

"It's improper to answer a question with a question."

"Fine. I'm not lying," I retorted.

"What do you train for?" she asked.

"To be better than everyone else! To prove them wrong," I exclaimed. "To be strong enough to provide for all of us. I want to change the lives of our people. We don't deserve to live this way, barely surviving like mangy cats and dogs. We should be living in cottages, trading goods, have plenty of food and water. I want to be strong enough to make that happen."

"How do you plan to accomplish that, child? By throwing yourself at the feet of the King of Hyrule?"

I was appalled. "Never! I can gather the Gerudo to this cause. We can kill the royal family and claim our rightful place!"

She laughed at me! But her eyes were full of pride. "And when you have accomplished that? Who will rule? Will you be queen? Do you think you'll be accepted? You don't think the Gerudo will be at each other's throats to take that throne?"

"Well, no. Ganondorf will still be our king," I admitted, though it felt as if I were just realizing it.

So, my mother said, "Then let me ask you again, my dear. What do you train for?"

I didn't like the direction of the conversation. I knew what she was trying to say, and I denied it wholeheartedly. Except for that small voice in the back of my head that I ignored. Now I know I just wasn't ready to accept it. I left our small home and refused to answer her.

That was the start to my long, hard road to the top. You better believe she was proud of me every moment after that. I hated and loved that she was right about my crush on the king, but my mom always seemed to know everything before I did, even her inevitable death.