Chapter Text
Ganon spends several miserable hours alone after Link has gone, bundled up in bed with a pillow that still smells like Link’s hair pressed to his nose.
He turns away breakfast when it arrives, and asks the chambermaid to come back later through the closed door when she comes to tidy his quarters… but then the reminder of the present, mortifying state of his bedsheets finally convinces him to have a bath and strip the bed himself before she returns. The servants might notice the evidence of his overnight activities down in the laundry, but at least this way it won’t be anyone he has to look in the face.
When his lunch arrives at midday, however, a visitor arrives along with it, and this time, he turns neither away.
Urbosa stays as long as she’s allowed, sitting with him on the sofa, close and warm, and asks his opinion on a dozen different matters of little to no importance: the budget for a small celebration on an upcoming feast day, the color of the new wall hangings to be put up in one of the palace wings, a proposal from one of the merchants in the central plaza regarding the potential expansion of her stall. Ganon is more than grateful for the distraction, and more than grateful for her company.
She doesn’t ask how he’s doing after the ceremony the previous evening, or if he’d gotten any resolution on his situation with Link. But then again, it seems she doesn’t need to; she tells him that she’d seen the princess and the new hero off earlier this morning, and casually shares the observation that the ‘poor boy’ hadn’t been able to hide a wince upon climbing into the saddle, and her accompanying look says quite plainly that she knows why. Ganon ignores the comment and the look both, and Urbosa doesn’t bring Link up again. Ganon is grateful for that as well.
But the distraction and the company can only last for so long. Within the hour, a knock on the door signals that their time is up.
Urbosa promises to take his love back to Lany and Dasha, and gives him one last lingering hug and a quiet sav’orq, my king.
And then she’s gone as well, and Ganon is alone again.
———
In the days that follow, Ganon finds that his guest room begins to feel more and more like a prison cell. A richly appointed prison cell, perhaps, but a prison cell all the same. It’s never felt as small as it does now, and he’s never paced it so frequently, ruminating on endless questions that he doubts he’ll ever have answers for. He’s never sat and stared out the window for so long with so little to take his mind off of how useless he feels, how lonely and heartsick he is, how afraid he is for Link… and for himself, and for the rest of Hyrule, too, for that matter.
But roughly two and a half weeks after Link’s presentation ceremony (and subsequent unauthorized visit), Ganon returns to his room after one of his daily walks and discovers the first new distraction he’s been granted since Urbosa left.
Someone has slipped a note under his door while he was away.
It isn’t from Link, he realizes very quickly, and his heart sinks. But his curiosity manages to overtake his disappointment a moment later, and he glances down at the signature before he starts on the page full of tightly cramped, tiny handwriting.
It’s from Purah, of all people, and it seems she’s wasted no time on greetings or honorifics.
I don’t have anything certain for you yet, but I wanted to at least give you an update, she begins. The Yiga could be correct. It’s a possibility. I haven’t come across this take too often myself, but it makes some sense historically speaking. The Calamity is supposed to be made of pure hate right, separate from the Ganondorf of back then. Somehow. So if his physical body was destroyed or is still sealed from 10,000 years ago, the Calamity probably would need to find a new one in order to reach full power. Something to contain all that hate and focus it. Since we’re not totally sure where the real body could be or if it even still exists, seems like you’re the next best option.
Maybe if we can keep the Calamity from getting its hands (claws? incorporeal grabby bits??) on you, we’ll stand a better chance of handling it. And if not… maybe you’ll have some sort of warning before it happens and can give us a heads up at least.
I think we both know I’ll have a hard time convincing the council to let you go home early regardless, but I do want to try. The problem is that if I go in unprepared they might decide to just throw you in the lockup, which would be stupid, or even kill you to make things simpler. Not stupid really (sorry), but definitely not what we want either.
(And if they did your boy would kill me.)
(By the way I want to emphasize how unhinged he is when it comes to you in case you were not aware.)
I’m going back to the lab tomorrow. Give me some time to see what I can find out and put some arguments together for the council, but send word if anything comes up on your end first. I saw Link at the Temple of Time with the princess three days ago, and he told me in private that your guard Brenn could help get messages in and out for you. Go to him if you need to reach me.
I know it doesn’t sound great right now, but I’ll do everything I can. I’m sure we’ll figure something out. But in the meantime keep your chin up, and don’t turn into a rage monster before I get my case together because then we’ll both look bad!
Purah~
PS I’m supposed to tell you something he said in Gerudo. I don’t know how to spell it and neither did he but it sounded like “sark say vo ro.” Good luck figuring it out.
“Sarqse’voro,” Ganon says to himself, wishing Link were here to hear it, and then skims through the rest once more, taking note of Purah’s almost hopeful tone there at the end. He wishes he shared her confidence about sorting this out, but between Princess Zelda’s still unanswered prayers to the goddess and the Hylian council’s history of poor decision-making where Ganon is concerned, he doesn’t see what chance any of them have at the moment. There are ten weeks left before the agreed-upon year is up, and while it could be that ten weeks is exactly what they need to move the final pieces into place, he knows that it’s just as likely that the Calamity could return tomorrow and catch them all woefully unprepared.
Purah can hope all she likes, but Ganon can’t afford to do so himself. His heart aches too much when he thinks of returning home early, when he imagines coming out alive on the other side of this, what life could look like without the Calamity bearing down on them and with Link’s duty fulfilled. He can’t start thinking of that impossible future until they’ve survived this.
… Or so he tells himself, anyway. But while he lies awake in bed that night waiting for sleep to catch up with him, he finds himself wondering if the Gerudo council of elders would make an exception to the old law regarding voe in the city if the voe in question happened to be the chosen hero who had saved all of Hyrule.
Prince consort has a lovely ring to it, after all. Though to be honest, he’d give anything just for the chance to wake up next to Link every morning for the rest of his life, he decides, his throne included.
———
Something pulls Ganon halfway out of his deep sleep sometime later, which is how he discovers that he’d finally fallen asleep in the first place. A noise of some kind, perhaps the fire popping in the hearth, he thinks, his mind too muddled to worry much, and he ignores it and rolls over onto his side.
An influx of cool air finding his bare back and a shift of the bed moments later are harder to ignore, however. He doesn’t get further than lifting his head off the pillow, though, before he feels warm breath on his cheek, soft hair tickling at his neck, a feather-light little kiss pressed to his temple.
“Just me, Gan,” Link whispers. “Go back to sleep.”
Ganon is just awake enough to think that there’s very little chance of that happening now; how could he waste this rare opportunity to bask in Link’s presence by sleeping through it? But then Link crawls under the covers and snuggles up against his back, wraps an arm around his middle and pulls him in close, and it seems that Ganon isn’t awake enough to resist the lull of Link’s steady breathing, the warmth of his skin, the familiar comfort of his touch. He’s asleep once more within moments.
———
Ganon wakes again after several hours of remarkably restful, dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks. No clinging red, no inexplicable rage, just blissful calm in his mind and Link’s head pillowed on his chest.
Link’s sleep-mussed hair is tickling his nose, a sharp little elbow is digging into his side, and he’s fairly certain that Link has drooled on him, but he finds that the decision he’d made last night still stands; waking up next to Link is, in fact, worth every bit of hardship he’s had to endure so far. He’d gladly take on more to guarantee this every morning from now on, if only he could. But they aren’t even guaranteed tomorrow, and he’s sure more hardship than they can handle will find them soon enough.
And the first taste of it is here now, he realizes. The morning sunlight is already peeking through the windows, turning Link’s hair to gold and Ganon’s thoughts bittersweet. It’s likely time for him to go.
Link lets out a sleepy sigh when Ganon brushes the hair back off of his forehead and out of his face, but he buries his nose in the side of Ganon’s neck when he says, “Sav’otta, my love.”
“’V’otta,” Ganon hears him grumble.
“I’d keep you here all day if I could, but is the princess expecting you?” he tries. “I don’t want you to be late for anything.”
After another disgruntled noise, Link sits up on his elbows, yawns widely, and says, “Not today. Gotta prep for the next trip later, but I’m good ’til… I dunno, noonish at least.”
A glance at the clock tells Ganon that they have more than six hours left to them. A few minutes more would have been a gift… hours seems like a miracle.
“Then forgive me for waking you so early,” Ganon says, and smiles when Link notices the little puddle he’d left on his chest, blushes, and quickly scrubs it away. “Go back to sleep if you like.”
Now that he’s awake himself, Ganon would be perfectly content to watch Link sleep through the rest of the morning, really. It’s been a favorite pastime of his ever since the trip here to the castle, after all, and being allowed so close a view these days has only improved upon it.
But instead of laying back down and getting comfortable again, Link gives him an incredulous look.
“Are you kidding?” he says, then throws a leg over Ganon’s hips. “No, I’m up now, and unless you’ve got objections to my morning breath, I’m gonna kiss you for like half an hour. Absolute minimum.”
Ganon snorts. But he also has no objections.
———
They lose track of the time very quickly.
Half an hour is what Link said, but neither of them bother to count the minutes while Link kisses him thoroughly, slowly, with just enough restraint to keep Ganon wanting more all the while. Between that and the reverent, adoring way that Link cradles his face in his hands and whispers, “Missed you so much, Gan,” in between kisses, Ganon finds that it’s all too easy to lie back and let Link take control—or whatever else he likes, for that matter.
Until the arrival of Ganon’s breakfast takes them both by surprise anyway, but that’s only a brief distraction (while Link scrambles to hide himself along with his very recognizable sword and tunic in the bathroom). And afterward, they pick up right where they left off, until Link’s soft noises and softer lips and lazy rolls of his hips finally drive Ganon to his breaking point, when he rolls Link into the sheets and proceeds to remove the self-satisfied smirk from his face. Link seems to have anticipated this turn of events, though, and gives as good as he gets, and it’s only a matter of time before Ganon finds himself flat on his back again with Link settled between his legs, mouthing at his cock through his sirwal and making an incredible mess of the silk.
And after Link has thrown the sirwal across the room and begun to make a mess of Ganon himself several minutes later, making the most devastating, hungry little noises while he works and looking up at him with all that burning intensity in his eyes and his cheeks hollowed out, it occurs to Ganon that, yes, he could imagine falling in love with Link over his exceptional enthusiasm in this alone. Even in a broom closet. But then Link decides he’d rather have Ganon inside him the other way, straddles him, and rides him until he spills all over them both, and Ganon has trouble thinking of anything but how lucky he is for a good, long while.
Later on, while Link polishes off the (now cold) bacon from Ganon’s neglected breakfast, he tells Ganon all about his latest excursion with the princess (the two of them are talking now, which Ganon is glad to hear, for both Link and Zelda’s sakes); he complains about Ganon’s new security restrictions (if he were still in charge of Ganon’s safety, he says, he would’ve fought tooth and nail against them); and he kisses him for another indeterminate length of time (after he tells Ganon how good he looks, laid back against the pillows, listening to him like he’s never heard anything more interesting, “with that look and the face and the tits and the everything, fuck—”).
And all the while, Ganon memorizes every last detail of this lazy morning that he can, the fact that Link can’t keep from touching him even while he talks with his hands, the bruise he’d sucked onto Link’s collarbone that may or may not show once he’s back in his Champion’s tunic (he almost hopes it does), the way Link sighs when Ganon calls him my love while they trade soft, sweet, drawn-out kisses, before they turn rougher and more urgent again.
How lovely it would be for this to be the norm for them, he thinks with Link dozing off in his arms a little while later, just another morning like any other instead of the incredible luxury that it is. And a yearning for that impossible future flares up in his chest just as strongly as the old aching want ever had, an After he can’t bring himself to hope for but can’t help imagining either.
———
With midday near enough to start making him anxious, Ganon takes it upon himself to brush all the tangles out of Link’s hair, since he’d put a great deal of them there himself this morning. But once he’s begun, the way that Link melts into a contented little puddle in his lap (and the fact that Link smells of sweat and sex and is supposed to be meeting with Impa this afternoon) has him getting up to run a bath, tying his own hair up and out of the way, and dragging Link into the tub with him.
He washes Link’s hair first, and grins when Link starts making the same sort of noises he’d heard from him earlier in bed while he scratches gently at his scalp. But really, Ganon thinks, what is this if not exceedingly intimate as well?
And once again, he finds himself unable to keep that impossible future off his mind, the one where they could have this every day. He’d scrub Link from head to toe every morning in his opulent bath at the palace in Gerudo Town, dress him in the finest silks with gold and jewels in his ears, at his throat, on his brow and arms and wrists…
Ganon imagines him coming in from the desert then, with sand in every crevice, his hair wild, and those fine silks splattered with molduga guts, and he has to snort.
“What’s funny?” Link says from his lap, sounding half dazed as Ganon starts combing his fingers through the suds at the nape of his neck.
“Nothing. Only thinking of how much I love you, of course.”
Link gives him a suspicious look over his shoulder, but relaxes back against his chest again without further protest.
It may not compare to his bath at home, but having Link with him in this too-small tub here at Hyrule Castle is more than he ever hoped for, Ganon thinks, and it will certainly do.
They don’t have time for the sort of long soak that he’d like, but after they get Link’s hair rinsed out, Ganon moves slowly and deliberately while he sees to washing the rest of him as well, making sure every inch receives its fair share of attention. It’s hard to say who enjoys the bath more; Link is certainly more vocal about it, but Ganon can’t get over the way Link feels under his hands, every muscle and scar, or the way Link shifts and bends for him, and stays where Ganon puts him while he digs his fingers into his neck and shoulders and works out every bit of tension that he comes across.
He also can’t get over that fantasy of bringing Link back home with him when this is all over and done with, however, so he does his best to redirect his thinking toward the more immediate, more achievable future while he leans Link forward until his chest is pressed against the side of the tub and starts in on a knot in his lower back.
“How long will you be gone this time?” he asks. “Do you know?”
“Should just be a week or so—hmnnfffuck, oh yeah, right there—but, I mean. Could be an extra day or two depending on how the weather holds up.”
“That’s not so bad. And after that?”
Link shrugs, then shifts a bit to give Ganon better access and hangs his arms over the side of the tub to drip on the floor.
“Not sure,” he says. “But I’ve been asking about a day off for a while now. The princess doesn’t take any, though, so we’ll see.”
“If you were to get your day off, how would you spend it?”
“In your bed, obviously,” Link answers without a moment’s hesitation, and Ganon has to laugh.
“You’ve tested my stamina enough as it is, Link. A full day of you in my bed would leave me a shriveled up husk, I’m sure.”
The way that Link throws him a suggestive look over his shoulder, bats his eyelashes, and arches his back enticingly gets him laughing even more.
“Ready to test that theory when you are, Gan,” Link says, but then his eyes soften a bit, and he adds more seriously, “But it’s not just the sex. I miss just being with you, you know? Even if you sat on the sofa and read all day or something, I’d sit there with you, just to be close. Like it used to be, before all the bullshit caught up with us.”
Ganon lets his hands slide down to Link’s hips, and tries to think of an adequate reply while he watches Link’s ears and cheeks darken.
“You know I love you, right?” Link says.
“Yes. I know,” Ganon answers, feeling that old ache in his chest again. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything.”
Link gives him a needlessly shy little smile, and then turns back around.
And a moment later, he lets out a contemplative hum and adds, “I mean, it is partly the sex, though. Just to be clear.”
Ganon rolls his eyes.
(He also resumes his impromptu massage, digging his thumbs into the swell of Link’s ass while Link groans again and drops back over the edge of the tub.)
———
The water is cold by the time they get out of the bath, and noon is far too near for anything resembling comfort. But Link lets Ganon towel his hair dry and brush it out, and almost falls asleep again while Ganon rubs one of the good skin creams Lany had sent into his cheeks and forehead, down his nose and his chin, though the way his parted lips feel under Ganon’s thumb, plush and slack and soft, distracts him for several moments—and then several more when he has to taste them.
Once he’s finished with him, Link looks as beautiful as ever. Perfection can’t be improved upon, after all. But his skin is glowing, he smells of Ganon’s favorite eucalyptus and palm, and his hair is softer than ever and much neater than usual in its tie, with one small braid behind his ear that Ganon is sure no one will give much thought. He hadn’t been able to resist, though. Far be it from him to give up an excuse to keep his hands in Link’s hair as long as possible.
But most of all, the contented, adoring little smile on Link’s face could very well be the loveliest thing Ganon has ever seen.
It’s a shame that Link has to put his clothes back on, but he allows Ganon to help him there as well. Ganon finds that being the one to pull his Champion’s tunic over his head and smooth out the wrinkles is somehow cathartic, feels almost like his own acceptance of the role that Link’s been forced to play, even if Link isn’t quite there himself. He’s proud of Link, he realizes, for everything he’d accomplished before drawing the sword, and for his willingness to put himself in this position for the good of Hyrule despite his fear, despite how much he didn’t want to take this on in the first place. It didn’t take a goddess’s approval for Ganon to understand how good Link is or to fall in love with him, but it feels like confirmation of what he already knew: Link really is extraordinary.
While Link pulls on his little fingerless gloves, Ganon takes note of how loose the sleeves of his undershirt are around his wrists, and imagines a bowstring catching on the linen and bruising his forearm, or even the sword’s sharp crossguard getting hung up in a sleeve at an inopportune moment… And so without a second thought, he takes his old favorite shawl from the back of the sofa, tears off two long strips, and then wraps them around Link’s forearms and ties them in place while Link looks up at him with wide eyes.
The silk will turn a blade better than Link’s shirt could on its own though, and the colors of the old Gerudo pattern even echo the green and orange stitching around the collar somewhat. The pale green might clash a bit, but overall, it looks intentional enough to pass, and Ganon gives Link a satisfied nod and says, “There, that should be better.”
(He says nothing, however, of how his heart leaps into his throat when he thinks of Link walking around wearing something of his, wearing an obviously Gerudo pattern for everyone to see. Or of how that impossible future leaps to mind once more.)
(Then again, the fact that Link takes several moments before putting his bracer on to look over his new arm wraps with his bottom lip between his teeth, that furrow back between his brows, and his cheeks pink, tells Ganon that he’d likely understand himself.)
Finally, once Link has buckled his sword belt on with practiced ease, Ganon takes a long look at him, and finds himself wondering just how quickly Link had gotten comfortable with the sword being there on his back. He’d had it for, what, two weeks or so by the time of his presentation? And even then, he’d worn it like he had never carried a different blade before it, one that was shorter and lighter—both literally and figuratively. If Link still carries his resentment as well, it certainly isn’t aimed at the sword itself, Ganon thinks.
He’s never seen it in Link’s hand outside of his nightmare, but he suspects that that same ease would be present in his grip, and it wouldn’t just be Link’s impeccable swordsmanship at work. Would it glow blue as it had in Ganon’s dream, as the legends say it had in the ancient hero’s grasp?
“Would you let me see it if I asked?” Ganon hears himself say, and Link gives him a puzzled look—then an apologetic little grimace when he understands.
“I mean. I would, yeah,” he says, hesitant. “Do you want to? I just figured… you know…”
“Morbid curiosity, I suppose,” Ganon answers. “But not if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Link frowns and says, “Yeah, well, when you put it that way,” but reaches over his shoulder and draws the sword anyway.
The Master Sword rings with a remarkably pure tone when it slips free of the scabbard. And though it does gleam brightly, no doubt thanks to Link’s careful attentions, there’s no glow, no sacred light radiating from within as far as Ganon can tell. Just blue-tinted steel, as it had been the last time he’d seen it in the temple years and years ago, and an edge that’s been honed razor sharp.
What this means, if anything, he can’t say with any certainty.
(And, yes. He sees now that Link really does hold it as though it’s just an extension of his arm.)
“Sarqso, my love,” Ganon says, hoping against hope that Link will never have to unsheathe it in front of him again, and Link puts it away with a nod.
“You gonna quit being morbid now?” he asks in a tone that brooks no argument, and his stern expression is so unwittingly adorable that Ganon doesn’t have to fake his answering smile in the least.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good enough, I guess.”
A bell somewhere on the castle grounds begins to chime then, and Link throws another frown at the clock on the mantelpiece. Ganon turns to look at it himself as well, even though he already knows what he’ll see.
It’s noon, and Link huffs out a sigh.
“Bullshit,” he mutters to himself, though a moment later, he says much more brightly, “You free a week from now, your majesty?”
Ganon snorts in amusement. “I’ll have to check my very full schedule, Sir Link, but I’m sure I could accommodate you,” he replies.
“Wish me luck on that day off, then. And the princess with her prayers. We just gotta get you out of town and get her sorted out, and then when this shit is done, I’ll put in an application for the Gerudo royal guard or something.”
“Which I will not approve,” Ganon says. “I have something else in mind for you, as a matter of fact. But you should worry about sealing the darkness first, and returning to me in one piece. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
Link rolls his eyes and says, “Priorities, yeah, whatever,” and then tugs him down for a kiss—
Which he suddenly pulls back from hardly a second later, his eyes wide and lips still pursed.
“Sealing the darkness,” Link says, as though it’s the first time he’s ever heard the phrase, as though that’s reason enough to explain his sudden surprise.
Ganon shakes his head, confused, and says, “Yes?”
“Sealing it,” Link repeats. “I’m supposed to seal the darkness. Not stab the darkness and kill it, and you along with it and ruin my life forever because I’ve never loved anything or anyone like I love you but I promised you I’d do it anyway… Seal it.”
Ganon blinks at him.
“Link, what in Din’s name are you trying to say?” he asks, and Link pulls him down excitedly and kisses him again with a resounding smack.
“Back up plan!” Link says. “If we can’t get you out of the castle early, right? If the Calamity gets ahold of you, maybe I don’t have to take you out along with it after all… The Sword That Seals the Darkness, that’s what it is, right? Maybe me and the princess, we can somehow seal just the Calamity away, separate it from you and tell it to go fuck itself and leave you intact!”
That’s an enormous, potentially world-ending ‘maybe,’ Ganon thinks, one that could end Link right along with everything else if it doesn’t go as planned.
Besides, he just saw the sword, and he’s well aware of how sharp that blade is. It might be able to seal the darkness by some ancient, divine power, but it’s still a sword.
“I suppose it’s possible,” Ganon says hesitantly. But the sword’s title had to come from somewhere, after all, and hadn’t Purah mentioned something about the ancient Ganondorf’s body being ‘sealed’ away somewhere, separate from the Calamity itself? If it still exists, anyway, but she’d phrased it that way, hadn’t she?
But he can’t get ahead of himself. He can’t start thinking of After, of their impossible future until they know more, and Link seems to sense Ganon’s reluctance to share in his optimism, since his grin turns a bit more serious then.
“Back up plan,” Link repeats with another, more casual shrug, trying to sound nonchalant, though it’s still obvious how excited he is. “Just an idea, you know? Just in case the rest goes to shit.”
“Then let’s hope you’re right about it,” Ganon says. “But in the meantime, I’ll just hope there’s no need of a back up plan in the first place. If Purah manages to convince the council to send me home after all, you won’t have to worry about sealing or stabbing or me being caught in the middle. You’ll just have to do what the goddess chose you for, and what you promised me.”
It isn’t a lie; Ganon really does hope it works out as Purah suggested it could. But he can’t say that he believes it will, either, despite how much he wants it.
Link sobers much more at the reminder, and says, “No matter what,” almost to himself a moment later. Ganon both hates and is thankful for the sudden resolve in his eyes.
Plans and back up plans aside, what Ganon hopes more than anything is that Link won’t be forced to make that difficult choice. And while he presses a kiss to Link’s forehead, he silently makes another promise of his own: no matter how futile it may be, he’ll fight the Calamity anyway. He’ll fight fate and the goddesses themselves if need be, and though it might wear him down to nothing or bury him by the end, he’ll stand his ground in the sandstorm all the same.
“Aghh, I really gotta go,” Link says then, pulling him from his thoughts, “but I’ll see if the princess knows anything about this sealing business while we’re gone, if you’re alright with me sharing all that. We’ve got a few days on our own on the mountain before we meet up with the other Champions, so I can talk to her in private.”
“It can’t hurt, I suppose. But what mountain are you expecting the poor girl to climb this time of year?”
“Mount Lanayru. It’s her birthday this week, so she can go freeze her ass off in a new spring trying to get Hylia’s fucking attention again while I freeze mine off making sure she doesn’t get hypothermia. What a mess. Hopefully this’ll be the one to do it though.”
Ganon had forgotten all about the Spring of Wisdom… But he wonders if Zelda’s coming of age might make a difference in all this, and offers up a quick prayer of his own to any of the goddesses that are listening. Let this be the one to do it.
“Stay warm, then, my love,” he says aloud. “I’m rather fond of your ass in particular.”
Link flashes him one more grin, gives him another lingering kiss, and whispers, “Sai sarqse’voro, Gan,” against his lips.
“I love you, too, Link,” Ganon replies, “no matter what.”
And this time, when Link drops down to the road below the balcony and disappears around the corner, Ganon breathes out a sigh, and tells himself that, in the grand scheme of things, a week really isn’t so long to wait.
———
The next day, a small tremor rattles the windows in the early afternoon and puts all of the castle staff on edge.
Sir Brenn checks in on Ganon immediately afterward, though he also takes a moment to say in a low voice, “Nothing from Director Purah yet, sir, but Anders and I have actually been assigned an escort trip out to the lab with the chancellor tomorrow. I’ll see if she’s got anything for you while I’m there.”
Ganon thanks him, though he wonders just how much Brenn knows about the situation. All he knows is that Link had spoken to Brenn about getting messages back and forth at some point, but whether or not Brenn understands what’s going on between him and Link, or the possibility that Ganon could be targeted by the Calamity, is still a mystery.
That night, Ganon dreams of Link again, and the sword glowing bright blue as it clatters to the ground. He does his best not to dwell on it after he wakes in a cold sweat, but his best is only so good, after all.
———
The day after that, a larger tremor knocks the clock onto the floor and shatters the face, along with all of its inner workings.
Ganon can’t say he’s disappointed about the clock itself. The last thing he needs these days is a reminder of how much longer he has to wait before Link returns.
But he stops midway through picking up the pieces, suddenly struck by that same old inexplicable dread that’s been following him for months. And while he stares at all of the little cogs and pins and shards of glass scattered across the carpet, he can’t help but feel that their time is about to be cut short.
He thinks of sending word to Purah, even if it’s only an unsubstantiated feeling—before he remembers that Brenn has already left the castle, and it’s too late for that.
His dreams are all red that night.
———
The third day after Link has gone, a third tremor, the most severe yet, rocks the entire castle, and sends Ganon lurching off balance where he stands near the windows, watching an ominous cloud of ash and smoke pour out of Death Mountain for the first time in decades.
He falls—and then his temple meets the edge of the desk, and everything goes dark.
———
And Ganon is dreaming again.
There’s no Link this time. There’s only the same clinging, biting red, worse than he can ever recall.
The Calamity comes to him again, as he knows it has been all along. What else could it have been?
This was inevitable.
He fights it anyway, just as he promised he would. And ruefully, he thinks that this should be good practice for the real thing when the time comes, as he knows it must.
Inevitable.
It will have him one way or another, the Calamity tells him, and he knows it’s right. He’s not even strong enough to wake himself up from a nightmare. How could he resist the beast?
But he thinks of Link then, and how he might handle it… and he tells the beast it can go fuck itself regardless.
He fights with what power he has. And, remarkably, he finds that it may actually be enough to at least get him through this dream.
———
Minutes turn to hours turn to days.
Ganon begins to wonder, dread creeping up his spine right alongside the hungry red claws of malice, if this is still a dream.
He hears the princess’s voice, faint, then stronger, then faint again, which has never happened in any previous dream of his, as far as he can remember.
Hold on, Zelda tells him. Remember who he is. Remember who he’s fighting for—who’s coming to help them seal the beast back into its cage.
Hold on, Ganon. Wait for him. He’ll be here soon.
And Ganon knows now that he isn’t dreaming.
The sandstorm has swept him directly into his worst nightmare, as he always feared it would, as he always knew it would deep down—but how he wishes that a nightmare is all it actually was.
———
Weeks go by.
Sometimes he slips. Sometimes the Calamity does.
But as the months turn to years, while Zelda whispers encouragement in one ear and the beast roars its rage in the other, Ganon begins to wonder something else.
Has he been wrong all along?
He should never have made it this far.
He isn’t free, he hasn’t won by any means. He doesn’t know where he is, or how long it’s really been, or what could possibly be going on in the world outside this swirling red sandstorm.
But the Calamity doesn’t have him completely, either.
Somehow he’s held it at bay, kept it from taking control altogether. He’s held onto himself.
So… what if the sandstorm isn’t something that’s happened to him, he thinks—
But then the beast tears at him again, and the thought is lost.
———
He’s coming, Zelda whispers to him. He’s on his way now.
She’s wearing thin herself.
Ganon can’t see how Link could possibly be on his way, and wonders how she’s convinced herself for this long. It’s been decades, surely.
The hero isn’t coming. He never was. It was all for nothing.
… Sometimes the beast sounds so much like himself that Ganon has trouble telling the difference.
He should give in, then. Why bother fighting any longer? His little love is dead and gone, after all. What does he have left?
Hold on, Ganon, Zelda urges.
The Calamity is more than welcome to fuck off whenever it likes, Ganon reminds it. He’s happy to wait it out.
—And that lost thought comes back to him.
Perhaps the sandstorm hasn’t happened to him, he recalls thinking now. But that was only half of it. There was something else…
What if the sandstorm was never fate, or destiny, or the will of the goddesses, Ganon wonders, following the thought, feeling that he’s right on the verge of something pivotal. What if it was never something beyond his control, something that he could only try not to lose himself in?
Ganon remembers what he’d been so close to realizing before. And more importantly, he begins to believe it.
What if he is the sandstorm?
What if he has been all along?
Then he’ll wear the Calamity down to nothing, he answers himself. He’ll crumble it to dust bit by bit, chip away more and more grains of red sand until there’s nothing left of it—or until his power is spent. No matter how many years or centuries or millennia it takes. For Link, if for nothing else, just as he promised. Regardless of whether or not he’s still out there fighting himself, whether he’s alive or dead, Ganon will wait for Link, just as he always has. No matter what.
———
His old nightmare comes true one day, somehow.
Zelda was right. Link really was on his way.
But the Calamity was right as well.
This really was inevitable.
Wake up, Ganon! Zelda shouts in his head.
He can suddenly feel Link’s throat beneath his hand, his pulse frantic under his fingers, but he doesn’t understand how they’d wound up here.
When had he slipped? How long has the beast been in control this time?
Link’s wrist snaps in Ganon’s other hand. The Master Sword, glowing brighter than it ever had in his dreams, so bright it burns his eyes, clatters to the ground.
And Ganon claws his way out of the darkness that’s been steadily swallowing him, so slowly he hardly noticed it at all.
His progress is slow, horrifyingly slow.
Link chokes and gasps for air, those blue eyes of his filled with fear and pain—but determination as well, that very same resolve Ganon had seen in them in those last few minutes they had together ages ago.
Link can still end this, he knows. If he can hold the beast back just long enough, Link will keep his promise.
Ganon’s grip—the Calamity’s grip—loosens, and Link manages to suck in a rattling breath.
Bit by bit, he chips away at the beast’s hold. If he could tell Link to hold on the way that Zelda has told him all these years, he would do it.
Hold on, Link, he would whisper to him, even while he’s shouting in his own mind. No matter what.
Bit by bit, more of the Calamity crumbles around him. Not enough to turn the tide completely. He knows how little chance there is of that happening before his strength gives out. Just enough to loosen its hold a bit more is all he needs, just a bit more—
Link drops to the ground, and goes down to one knee when his legs won’t hold him up.
He coughs, clutches at his bruised throat, but he also doesn’t waste a moment before he reaches for the Master Sword as well.
He meets Ganon’s eyes, though Ganon really can’t say for certain what it is that Link sees. The Gerudo king as he was, the beast fighting him for control, something revoltingly in between… he doesn’t feel like himself, whatever the case may be.
But regardless of what Link sees, and regardless of the tears in Link’s eyes now, he doesn’t hesitate.
He strikes—
There’s a blinding light.
And then darkness again.
———
Ganon hears the beast raging around him, feels every bit of its hate and its anger, but he sees nothing.
He’s lost in the darkness now, further and deeper than he’s ever been before, so deep that even the Calamity’s roars fade to nothing.
The quiet is bliss after all this time.
But Ganon thinks only of how glad he is to have seen Link once more, how glad he is that he waited.
———
But then the blinding light is back, and it swallows him whole.
The malice, the clinging red, the darkness… they all rush back at once—but dissipate just as quickly.
And Ganon opens his eyes.
———
“Wake up, Ganon.”
Zelda’s voice. But not in his head this time.
“Can you hear me?”
The light dims, and fades, and resolves into Zelda’s worried face hovering over him.
Ganon manages to nod, and then her worry fades as well.
“It’s over,” she tells him, relieved, tearful. “We’ve done it.”
There’s blue sky behind her, Ganon sees now. Clear and bright and open. He can smell the grass beneath him, feel it tickling, hear crickets chirping and a horse snuffling around in it somewhere nearby.
How…?
He’s sore in ways he can’t begin to fathom, so deep that he can’t tell where the physical sensation ends and the mental one begins, but, slowly, he begins to understand what Zelda has told him.
It’s over. They’ve done it.
If he weren’t here on his back with the sun in his eyes, feeling as though he’s been torn to shreds and sloppily pieced back together, he’d find it hard to believe that such a thing could even be possible.
But he is.
Ganon drags himself up onto his elbows. It feels like a more monumental effort than holding the Calamity back for untold years had been, but he manages it—
And then he sees Link.
He’s standing there behind the princess, bruised and bloodied and splattered with malice, Master Sword on his back and an unfamiliar, otherworldly silver bow in his hands. The confusion and wonder are plain on his face, along with an old, faded scar across one cheek that Ganon has never seen before.
He’s just as beautiful as ever, though. Maybe even more so now.
It occurs to Ganon to tell Link how much he loves him, how proud he is, how long he’s dreamed of holding him close again without the hope that he ever would, but he doesn’t think he has the strength for it at the moment. Surely it would take years to explain properly, and the need to simply close his eyes and take a long, well deserved nap is growing greater by the second.
Besides, their impossible future is here now, despite everything. Perhaps he’ll have all the time he needs once he wakes up again.
So for now, he takes a wheezing breath, and manages to get out three words in a voice that’s so rough and gravelly with disuse that it hardly sounds like his own.
“That. Fucking. Sucked,” he says.
And a familiar, beloved laugh forces its way out of Link’s throat.
It’s the loveliest thing that Ganon has ever heard.
“Yeah, no shit,” Link replies, still laughing, and his face positively lights up with delight and relief.
Ganon grins, slumps back into the grass, and decides to just have his nap right here.