Chapter 7

The spring was silent as the Twilight Princess lounged in its waters. Chickens clucked and cuckooed as they went about their business around her.

There were no memories to perturb her. No shadows of what-never-was or could-have-been's to muddle her mind. Icy dread crawled over her skin like a lethargic insect. Freedom from the madness of sweet nothings and absolute truths in exchange for any pound of flesh the Spirit demanded.

Suddenly, she snarled. She was no peasant, desperate for her liege's aid. She was the Shadow's damned Twilight Princess!

The beast was gone from sight, but Midna knew that that mattered little to those powerful enough.

She cursed. She cursed and cussed and swore to the ends of Time and Twilight's Dawn for all she was worth. Magic clung to each syllable, sometimes innocently, sometimes with the sensual nuance of an assassin. Midna knew many words, and several languages of her realm, and she exploited each and every one of them to the best of her ability if only to vent a fraction of her hate for the divine.

"You are quite lovely like this, princess."

Midna swirled around, her magic already lashing out at the intruder, and there, within the deeper waters was-

The fire spread across the land, slowly and gently, swallowing her people with affection and care and pain. She opened her arms and welcomed the fire, shedding tears of forgiveness and regret. The sun born flames sashayed over to her, and the woman danced and loved, swearing her and her kin's lives and children to it. The flames wrapped around her like a blanket, protecting her and killing her with all the practiced ease of a gentle mother. The princess smiled, for once at peace with the world, and closed her eyes, relinquishing all to the clean-

The knockback into the world left Midna staggering backwards. She heaved as if all within her threatened to leave her. For a moment she wondered if this was what disembowelment felt like.

She thought back to the experience-

…fiReFIreFIReFIR-

-and ignored the psychic sledgehammer as best as she could.

Fire. Forgiveness.

Goddess.

Recomposing herself, Midna stood tall and glared in the general direction of the entity, very nearly incinerating her soul in the process. Dealing with goddesses was never safe or sane.

"Din."

The name felt heavy to her. Like stones. It took more effort than it should have to call the name of the goddess.

Din smiled, as Midna noticed the goddesses were wont to do.

"Scum."

Midna smiled back through the continuing psychic backlash of the vision. It seemed she had pissed off someone powerful again. She wondered what that said about her that it made her feel good?

Din began to laugh. That most precious of feelings, hope, sprung from within the twili as she heard the song no bard could sing.

Hope from the gods was poison to the heart. Midna had had enough of hope. Let the Light wallow in its hope.

Indeed, the spring around them seemed to shine even more as the goddess left her impression on the world. Midna could almost see the fires of Creation intertwine with the magic of the sacred waters. Undoubtedly the spring would prove to be an invaluable source of healing for years to come.

Midna mentally noted not to drink from the water from now on.

"What do you want from me this time, hotstuff?"

"Scum." The Golden One said once more, hammering the word into Midna with more force this time.

The princess sucked in her breath as she felt the sucker punch to her soul. But still, she held on.

"Scum."

It was like being torn inside out and being deemed unworthy of something very precious to her. Midna bit the inside of her cheek to keep from falling to the words. This was no magic. This was something else.

"Scum."

The world was beginning to spin.

"Scum."

Midna brought a hand to her nose and noticed it was bleeding.

"…Midna."

Let it never be said that she was weak-willed. No mere individual could be as tempered through fire as Midna was. She would sooner cut her own throat before bowing to another being, even if the price were a child's life.

But Din was a goddess. She could break the world with but a whim and fix it at a moment's wish. It was truly fortunate that she and her kin were at peace with each other, lest they brought upon the existence of creatures fouler and more destructive than any other. Midna was a mortal. Any comparison would be a disservice to the Mother of the world, and an insult to Midna as well.

She dared not compare herself to Din; she knew what kind of monsters inside her head came out to play in the darkness.

Midna had had plenty of lovers in the past, but the soul-searing painful emotion that threatened to erupt past her carefully crafted shell was enough to drive her to her knees.

But the princess excised that part of her with all the brutal efficiency of a bullheaded Bulbin. One does not thrive among the blue-blooded without some degree of mental surgery after all.

Midna breathed in the air around her hungrily. She sucked in the life and the power crackling in the air and willed herself to stand before the Golden One. Somehow, Midna got the impression that Din was surprised, which was more than astounding and all kinds of disconcerting.

Her reply was one word: "Bitch."

Later she would wonder why it was her encounters with the Din, Nayru, and Farore always seemed to be peppered with dramatic little moments like this. Taunting and mind-imploding teasing followed by Midna trying to punch out their two front teeth.

This however, was a bit more complicated than a haymaker.

Midna released the shadow magicks that she had breathed into her body. She blew it out, its form that of a bloody and inky mist that encircled the entire spring, and all that touched the mist throbbed as if with pain.

This was a devilry of a piece of work normally, Midna knew. It took time and preparation and more justification to use it than she had at that moment. If any extrasensory people came by they'd be tempted to crucify her on the spot but dammit, goddess or not, nobody fucked with the fabric of her soul.

The entire spring began to cry. Metaphysical nails and thumbscrews applied to the spirit of the land, twisting it inwardly and away from normal sight. Torture on another level entirely echoed as the mist settled and seeped in, binding itself and wrecking some of Time's greatest work in seconds. Outwardly, everything looked the same, but many of magic's greatest feats were ne'er so plebeian as to be seen.

Salt and burn so to speak.

The spring died.

Most would call her insane and vainglorious. Midna would have to agree with them.

It still looked beautiful. No one would be able to deny that. But beauty was fleeting, even in nature. It would never be the-

A thrum of limitless power, a whoosh, and a miracle later the spring was normal once more.

The Twilight Princess stared and suddenly felt very mortal.

Din –suddenly behind her– wrapped her arms around Midna and put her head on the blue woman's shoulder. "My land is not yours to toy with, Princess."

Ah. Right.

This land was Din's land. One of her personal creations, even. It mattered not that she and the rest of the Golden Three had less boundaries with each other than any mortal, because Midna remembered very faintly a legend of the goddess shaping the land with her hands herself. And legends were far more reliable than any book.

Midna had just tried to maim Din's child.

"My land, Princess. My spring. My village. My country. My people. My Hero. You are merely borrowing my possessions, Midna. Everything you currently possess, everything you ever will even possibly possess is mine. Ours." Din's voice came out husky and even-paced. "Your land belongs to me. Your people belong to me. All that glitters and all that slimes is Ours, Princess."

The goddess gently breathed along her neck, every bit as delightful and magnificent as before, only infinitesimally more enticing and impossibly more dangerous. It was akin to outrunning an avalanche.

Din kept speaking. "Your soul belongs to me. Your magic belongs to me. Your children will belong to me. There is nowhere you can exist without being mine, Princess. You can struggle and curse and defy Us, and We will indulge your tragic wish, for We are not so malicious as to force you to come to that realization. But your tears will make us weep, because what else can a mother do for her stubborn child when the bows have been strung and–"

A sudden, sickening sound of not-flesh being pierced interrupted her.

Midna looked down at Din's chest. There was a sword coming out of it.

"Leave us." Said a voice.

There was a grunt, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting something immaterial.

Right beside her, Din had somehow managed to stumble forward so perfectly a queen would have sacrificed three countries for lessons.

A reassuring presence stood beside her now, sword in hand. Midna took a glance at the beast. Maggots waved at her cheerfully from their holes in the monster's skin. The ghastly forever-grin of the long-dead stared right back at her and chattered.

Forever Dusk, this was what taught her wolf the ways of the Chosen?

"You have threatened my abode once already, usurper. Shall I sound the howl of war?" said the beast, its jaw moving and clacking in a mockery of a real mouth.

The fire-haired goddess laughed heartily and jumped back. "And so a monster answers your call for help once more, Princess. What hells shall it visit in your name, I wonder. What evils shall it wrought-"

It moved, ignoring the constraints of time and space, decapitating the goddess even before she had begun, before she had even moved, and sent the head flying-

And suddenly causality was restored. Midna stared at the now headless form of Din unsurprisingly bereft of blood…or…anything else really. All was quiet for a moment until suddenly she let out a low whistle of awe.

"…burn." said Din's head from its position on the ground. There was no joy, instead, all the miseries of the world cried out in synergy as the goddess spoke.

Din vanished.

The world seemed just a little bit dimmer with her departure.

The beast turned to her. Midna glared at it. Daring it to try and pull the same move.

Instead, it grinned. Somehow. It had naught but a skull yet that skull gave off the impression of actual amusement. There was nothing but inky blackness in its eye sockets but Midna knew that the creature was observing her reaction. It quickly sheathed its sword…somewhere. Some sort of not-space took the blade with a faint hiss, leaving the creature unarmed, but not truly unaided.

The beast spread its arms wide and cackled up at the sky. The Twilight Princess felt her whole being thrum in sympathy with the monster.

"I take it, I have earned my stay?" Said the Spirit.

Midna hesitated but nodded. "You planned this, didn't you?" She stated, her tone not accusatory.

The Spirit shifted into the form of the Golden Wolf, and let out a bark of laughter. "I am flattered that you think I can so easily manipulate the goddesses."

"They're goddesses." She said drily, "They're fairly predictable. Something such as you…" And here she trailed off, as if for the first time realizing she didn't know what the 'something' before her was.

The Wolf Spirit neither confirmed nor denied her response. Instead, it began circling Midna slowly, predatorily. "Something such as I, hmm?"

"I'm not scared of you." Midna lied.

The Spirit's eyes weighed heavily on her. "Your bluffing belies your intelligence, twili."

"Your attitude belies your smell, Spirit." Oh Shadows dammit, she could not keep her mouth shut even if she sewed it.

An oppressive feeling gripped her, silently choking her as she lingered in the magnificent aberration's presence.

"You should leave. Go. Find your boy." Said the spirit.

"No."

The monster stared at her. "You should-"

Midna reacted, with far more gut instinct and enough foolhardiness that she would blame it all on the pumped up tension later. Thick misty chains grabbed the creature from behind by the throat and pulled it down. It fell unceremoniously in such a way that it almost convinced Midna that the thing was actually surprised.

The Twilight Princess did not give it a moment's rest. She was already conjuring a large shadowy weapon, which may or may not have had the likeness of the Master Sword.

As soon as the beast was down, she stabbed it with the shadow weapon.

And the monster arced in faux-pain so beatifically that Midna could not help but let out the hysteric giggle that had been building up since her first encounter in the spring.

"I am the Twilight Princess, Spirit!" She jerked and twisted her blade. "Do not think me yours to order around. I grabbed Power's Chosen by his demon horns and ripped them off! I've punched Farore herself in the face for daring to play with my wolf!"

She kicked the thing in the face with her foot, and felt sadistically satisfied when she saw the skull cave-in from the blow.

"I have died tens of thousands of times and in every single one of those times, I have come back stronger and smarter for it. The goddesses presumed to inform me that I'm supposed to let this farce of an existence go on for Link, the only other unfortunate bastard to go through the same thing I have. Hell no.

"I'm here, and I'm ready to cut off more than bits of skin to get what I want, so tell me now Spirit, sell your stuff to me really well, or I swear on my people's blood that I will make sure your existence is as mortal as possible."

She finished the rant in a huff, her breathing heavy and her hands grasping the sword still going through the beast's gut in an effort to hide her trembling. She glared down at the thing, the abomination beneath her with all the hatred she could muster. It stared silently back at her.

She could understand why her people rebelled against the goddesses, if this was the sort of thing they had to put up with.

The thing beneath her shifted form, dispersing the magic in her sword as easily as dandelions. Now it was the Golden Wolf once more, majesty and deceit personified.

"Hair," it said. "Give me your hair."

The redhead blanched. "Excuse me?"

"All debts must be repaid." It said, "Then, we talk."

Midna looked down at it and sneered. She was hesitant to do so, mostly because she knew too many ways in which a simple bit of her body could be used for damnable deeds (she herself having experimented in her youth), but with a quick snap of magic she removed a fistful of her own red locks and offered it to the beast.

The Wolf prodded her hand with its snout, before its eyes met hers and she could almost see the smirk happen behinds its eyes.

The Spirit shifted form once more, but Midna stood her ground. After the first time, the miracle (for it was definitely not magic that let it defy reality) lost its glamour. It grabbed the hair from her hand, brought it to its caved-in skull and….sniffed?

"Power…power such as this has not been seen in this realm for millennia." It said, sounding both enormously satisfied and ineffably wise at the same time. "And it is this power of yours that will allow you to break the gods' grip on your pet."

Midna sighed, wondering when the headache was going to start.

She looked at the sky, and noted it was currently twilight. How perfectly timed.

Stupid dramatic goddesses.

"Quit the riddles monster, lest you want your tail pulled. Why are you blocking the memories? Why do you challenge the greatest authority in the realm so brazenly?"

The beast looked away to the side, much like Link whenever he was acting guilty of something while in his wolf body. "Farore, Nayru, and Din may be my goddesses, but they are not my masters. My sword slays all in honor of a name long since forgotten by Time and her children."

Midna got the hint to drop it. "And the memories?"

The wolf snorted. "Redirected to a more suitable destination."

"Where?" She demanded. She shuddered to think of the effect of Wisdom's shard on anybody else.

The Spirit changed its form once more. The corpse disguise fell away to reveal Link, dead and naked, the top half of his torso mutilated beyond recognition. "I must say, I can't remember the last time I've been killed like this before. It's almost entertaining."

The Twilight Princess looked and…looked….and looked….and looked….

Too much. Too much. Too much.

And suddenly Midna ripped her gaze away from the inhuman body. Knowledge threatening to overflow the floodgates of her mind. The freezing, almost clammy embrace of death hung around her as she tried to regain her breathing. What kind of creature was she dealing with that just glimpsing it for as short a time as she did filled her mind with centuries of history?

Something shook her shoulder, jolting her from her reminiscing. "I apologize, I did not believ-"

"You're a bit on the scrawny side, you know that?" Midna interrupted for the second time that day. "Looking a bit peaky too."

The Spirit stared at her, nothing but the faint soft pat of one of its maggots falling off, and Midna wanted to believe its mouth was just a bit more open than usual too.

It chuckled and then said, "No wonder that boy is so fond of you."

She pretended not to know whom it was referring to.

Closing her eyes, Midna began to walk away. She did not have to see to know the Spirit was following her. "You spoke of my power. Explain."

There came the sound of a supremely powerful spiritual being contemplating its answer. It was quite loud.

Here again Midna rued learning the arcane knowledge known as magic; if she had wanted to abuse her senses mercilessly she'd have been better off staring into the sun. At least then there wasn't the chance of complete spiritual immolation every time something powerful so much as sneezed.

"There is a reason the goddesses were so harsh in your people's punishment, princess." The creature began, prowling around her as Midna walked into Renado's house. The creature passed through all the solid objects as if they weren't there. "What? Did you think your people were the most heinous and vicious in their pursuit of the goddess' leftovers?"

As a matter of fact, Midna did. It had even been a point a pride for her, growing up. Of course, back then she had deluded herself into thinking that it was because the goddesses were scared of her people, and not the other way around. But such was youth.

The Spirit growled, jolting the twili from her thoughts.

"The death of a newborn or the death of an elder matter little in the scheme of things. As soon as you can tell me who my sword should be going through, you can speak of monsters, but until then, kindly rein in your thoughts. Now, let me tell you a story."

It took Midna a second to realize the Spirit was joking. Or something close to it anyways. She was getting tired of all the subtlety.

The Spirit continued. "Your people…they were memorable…the gods were thrifty with their gifts back then, but your kind's offerings were particularly grandiose. I suppose, then, that was why their punishment was so unique compared to the other races."

Midna let out a small contemplative sound. It made sense. A balancing of the scales so to speak.

"You mortals fought over that Golden Toy," and here the Spirit spat out the word with enough hate Midna thought he'd gone mad, "like dogs over a dinner scrap. Even your tribe, with all its gifts and glory already given, when you were presented with the slightest impossible chance you were the first to leap at it.

"But that is why you are special, twili. To have bedded and dined with the goddesses as your people have leaves a mark on you; not enough to truly warrant the title of divine, but enough to give big men with small hearts enough bluster to bite the hand that feeds them."

"That's a fair enough deduction I suppose," Midna said as she mulled over it, "but how is that useful to me at all?"

For the first time, true amusement emanated from the Spirit. It was like walking into a butcher's shop, smelly not all-together sanity preserving. "You will find that I have been many places and many times and seen many many things."

"I don't doubt it." She said drily. What a surreal existence that must be.

"And now here you come, sleeping in the boy's shadow like your own bed. You are touched by the gods twice over now, because that scared little girl sitting in her tower swallowed her pride and begged two monsters to aid Hyrule, giving more of herself to a shade than should ever be done.

"But it's not over now, is it? The twice-touched monster and the Hairy Beast look for the cursed mirror and save the land. But the little monster has been having ideas by now, thoughts and dreams when she is not asleep. She does not want to let the Beast go now, she does not wish to return to her people.

"So what do the gods do? They talk to her, and ask her, and even plead with her to let it be for now and to abandon the Beast, because never let it be said that they aren't fair and just and amazing in their ineffability.

"But the little monster in woman's skin spits in their faces and stomps on their good will. The little monster takes the shreds of the Triforce left to her, and boldly declares war on the heavens, in the vain and entirely selfish hope to cut the leash between the Beast and the Great Ones.

And so the little monster becomes thrice-touched by divinity.

In the end, the little monster fails and the Beast mourns her passing, before its master tugs on its tether and it moves on."

Silence reigned.

"I will help you, little monster, not because I like you. Not because of that plain little emotion that binds you to the boy. But because in you I see a capacity for something these stories have longed for."

"And what's that?"

"Change!" And the innocent wonder in the voice made her double-take. "Rare are the ones so blessed as you, and even rarer so are the ones with the drive to defy all that is good about the world several times over. Your power is not tangible one, but it is dangerous nevertheless."

Midna snorted. It seemed the goddesses were not so used to rejection. It reminded her of her chambermaids and their incessant drama over who snuck a shag in with who. "Far as I seem to recall, telling them to get their own wolf-boy has resulted in me being quite intimate with all manners of dying. Dangerous for who, exactly, is this 'power' of mine?"

The thing before her vanished. "That remains to be seen. Now go. I am busy. Wars to plot and deaths to experience."

The Twilight Princess rolled her eyes. On its own head be it, then. Or hers. Whichever didn't get her killed or insane by the morn.

End Chapter 7