Strange Bedfellows

The Crown Princess Zelda sat upon the Royal Throne of Hyrule, head set demurely to one side and eyes closed as she listen to her head advisor, the man that her father had appointed to guide her before he died. To all the court, she appeared to be calm and serene. Yet the Princess struggled to contain her rising ire, her need to lash out at this condescending man and his foolish suggestions.
"It is not within the nature of the Gorons to fight," he told her, in that wheedling voice that she detested so much. "They are skilled with their hands, but simple in mind, and cowards to boot. You should show a strong hand."
Her advisor, Duke Reyton, resembled a weed in his tall, skinny stature, as well as his tendency to bow at every other moment. He had a thin, foxlike face, and wore expensive yet subdued silks. He was no fop, and certainly no fool; he had a sinister purpose behind his bad advice. And Zelda was not about to let him fulfill it.
"I hear you, Duke Reyton," she said softly and with a smile, as she turned to look at him. "I understand perfectly your concerns. Yet our master smiths do not even begin to approach their skill; do you really think it wise to alienate our best weapon-makers in a time of possible war?"
"Oh no, Your Highness," he said with another of his trademark bows. "Forgive me, but I did not mean open hostility." Zelda could sense the disappointment and bubbling irritation beneath his smile.
Zelda turned to the Goron envoy. "It is quite unfortunate that your work suffered from saboteurs. I do not condone this behavior, but I accept that it was committed by people under my rule, and I am responsible for them. This will be investigated, and in the meantime, you may borrow molds to cast iron until your machinery has been replaced or repaired."
The envoy gave his thanks, then turned and left. It was the last appointment for the day, and the sun already hung low in the sky. Surrounded by her entourage, Zelda departed the throne room, slowly shedding courtiers until she reached her personal quarters. She turned with a perfect porcelain face and smiled, wishing them a good night and stating politely but firmly that she did not wish to be disturbed this evening.
Once in the door, she dropped the mask with an exhausted sigh. Altana, her personal maid, came to her side with a tea tray. "Sit down, Your Highness, and drink something to calm your nerves."
Zelda smiled slightly. Altana had been her attendant since she was very young, and was one of a very few people she trusted. "Thank you. Please inform the kitchen that I would like to have my dinner served here. No need for anything fancy. That savory soup the head cook served last week would be fine."
She waited until Altana left, then pulled off her gloves, rubbing the mark on the back of one hand. It had appeared on her thirteenth birthday, and subsequently turned her world upside down.
Before, she had been more or less content with her state of affairs, confident in her court and her country. But the night that the Triforce mark appeared, she had a series of bloodcurdling nightmares. It appeared very faintly, then grew more noticeable over the next several days. Over time she began to realize that the visions in her dreams were memories from past Wisdom Bearers, her ancestors. Horrible, horrible things, visions of blood and death, war and pain, chaos and destruction.
And that was only the beginning. Soon she began to get visions of things that had not yet happened. Premonitions, just obscure enough to tell her of some gathering darkness without giving her any real clues to their source.  A cup filled with mud, worms, and one bright green snake. She could not touch her tea that day, a foul taste filling her mouth. The next day, she learned that her father had died in his sleep. She did not make the connection at first, but the meaning became more clear as Duke Reyton appeared in her dreams in serpent's form.
She had been able to outmaneuver him so far. He dared not try poison again, and all other forms of murder were too easily found out. Now he attempted to steer her wrong, giving her 'advice' that was sure to make the people rise up against her. Nothing obvious. Nothing that she could throw back in his face and denounce him, get rid of him, in a way that did not seem paranoid and suspicious.
All she had now was that mask of innocence, an illusion she wrapped around herself in order to keep others off guard. It was easy. No one expected a young, unmarried woman to be able to run an entire country. She had already received several offers from both nobles and heads of other countries - some her age, some much older. All of them eagerly offered to lift this terrible weight from her thin, delicate shoulders. She thanked them graciously, told them she needed time to consider. She appeared to favor one, then the other. She had no intention of marrying any of them, but she also knew that she could only stall for so long.
She sighed as she rubbed the mark on her hand again, both a blessing and a curse. Wisdom could easily guide her through any crisis. But Wisdom also attracted Power, as if Power somehow knew that it was out of balance without it. Already the images of a tall, dark man had invaded her dreams. Always the same man, just as she was the same woman as before, just in a different body. She watched silently as he spoke to her through the eyes of her great-great grandmother, a woman who had died seventy years before she was born. The Gerudo had welcomed the hundred-year male into their tribe five years before she was born. Once he moved from Prince to King, he was sure to visit her at her castle. And that was where the trouble would begin.
The Goddesses had assigned her a Hero, just as they had done for her ancestors. But as of yet, she had not been granted any information about the Bearer of Courage. She knew not what form he would take, or when he would appear - if at all. She had a few unfortunates in her family tree that found him dead, or worse, and had to ride the storm alone.
After dinner, Zelda bathed and spent the rest of the night in bed, reading. Her nightstand contained books starkly different in tone; on one end were war manuals and histories outlining political betrayals; on the other were fairytales. Both tools in shaping her chaotic world, and tools for escaping it.

---

"The Throne Room of Hyrule welcomes the Prince of Gerudo, Lord Ganondorf!"
Zelda sat up straight, shocked. She had heard that the Gerudo Prince had been crowned just a couple weeks ago - already he was coming to see her? Of course, the little man with the parchment at the double doors had been instructed not to call him King Ganondorf - there could only be one King in a kingdom, after all. Zelda watched the young man approach the dais. He wore no armor, and yet stood taller and broader than even the strongest iron-clad knights. He wore light clothes of finely-woven, bright Gerudo silk, the ubiquitous forehead jewel drawing attention to his face. It was neither ugly nor handsome, sun-browned and angular, the slightest hint of a beard dusting his chin. On his belt he wore a jeweled scimitar, an item of status and not of war.
The young man radiated confidence. He walked with purpose, head high. As he came closer, Zelda had to restrain herself from jumping out of her chair. His energy pressed forward, as if he did not intend to stop.
"Come no closer!" The knights at the foot of the dais ordered, crossing their halberds in front of him.
The young man gave them a slight nod, as if acknowledging his error with no apology; he calmly stepped back, and kneeled in such a way that he looked more like he chose to appear accommodating, rather than submitting to protocol.
"Gerudo scum," Duke Reyton hissed. "You should have him imprisoned for his cheek."
Zelda doubted any of her knights could hold him. Still, she needed to disperse the tension that filled the air. "Lord Ganondorf, you have already traveled so far, there is no need for you to go any further."
The court relaxed visibly as the young man stood with a smile. "Thank you, Princess, though I do not plan to stay long. I merely came to pay my respects."
Zelda smiled benevolently, but her insides churned with rage. That same, condescending tone - surely, a man in a tribe of women would understand that a woman could rule just as well? He was no better than Reyton or any of the others that wished to take her throne. She thanked the Goddesses that he had not gotten close enough to sense her Triforce, for she knew for certain he had to carry a piece. "Your journey has been quite long, I am sure…pray, stay a while. You are our honored guest." The same polite offer.
"Ah, Your Highness, I must refuse. I have pressing business at home." The same polite refusal.
Zelda's mind burned as they went through the usual pleasantries. She hated being here, hated being trapped between these two weasels and forced to deal with them with a smile on her face. If she held the Power, she could strike them both down.
Suddenly an idea flashed in her head. Why stand between them? Let the two wolves fight over a kill, only for the victor to be slaughtered in the end. She forced her smile smaller, not wanting to show too many teeth, not wanting to give away her designs.
Yes, she held the advantage here. Both saw her as a helpless girl. Neither one knew the sacred power she held, though Ganondorf might at least have an inkling. She would set them against each other. Make Duke Reyton believe he was in control, make Ganondorf target him as the obstacle to his conquest. In the meantime she could send out her spies to search for the Hero. No sense in sitting and expecting him to come.
"I do so enjoy your company," Zelda said with a radiant smile. "Please, join us for dinner tonight. My dear friend the Duke always treats our guests to the most wonderful feasts."
The Duke gave her a surprised look, startled to see her give him so much responsibility. Ganondorf tore his amber eyes away from her and pierced through the Duke's stunned face.
Perfect, Zelda thought to herself. Let the game begin.