Defy Me, Then

Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda, or any of the characters there within, they are property of Nintendo.

Ganon caught the edge of the door and thrust it open, standing for a moment in confusion as his eyes took in the sight before him.

There, sprawled awkwardly over the cold stone, lay the princess of Hyrule. Her plaited brown hair and heavy robes spilled across the floor, eyes shut, utterly still.

A frown pressed the corners of the man's lips as he crossed the threshold in three great strides. He paused over the lifeless form, assessing the royal. She made no motion at his heavy footsteps, no acknowledgement of the world around her. His eyes narrowed. He had once seen a desert serpent play dead before him. The beast writhed and twisted very much alive when he crushed its head under the heel of his boot. Did the princess think him a fool?

Ganon firmly nudged the young woman's calf with his toe. Her leg shifted but she did not respond.

Ganon's frown deepened.

He gradually dropped to one knee, pulling off the glove of one hand as he went. Pressing his fingers to her throat he found her pulse, weak but beating piteously beneath his fingertips.

The tight crinkle around the man's eyes softened.

What had happened? What could possibly fell a bearer of the Triforce?

Through Zant's mouth came Ganon's words, his commands to rule his conquered kingdom and protect his assets until his strength returned him to his corporal form. But it would seem Zant had no interest of informing his master the princess' unexplained collapse.

Through Zant, Ganon had kept a strict watch on the princess, posting sentries and assigning guards to look in on her every hour day or night. Or eternal night as it were. The reports were always the same. The princess fares well. The princess is in good health. But Ganon was dissatisfied with these empty testimonies.

It was not a challenge to impose his consciousness on the Twili he'd placed in charge, Zant was a weak-minded fool eager to exchange his people's lives for power. Ganon granted him that power and reaped recompense without the former's knowledge or permission.

Ganon routinely ascended the tower steps under this guise to gaze at his prize. How the princess would turn at his entrance, smoldering blue eyes reflecting the dying embers of her ravaged castle set ablaze. Her silent enmity fed his hunger for dominance, sated some deep need for hegemony, only to awaken a deeper more, bestial desire.

He sometimes brought a tray of tea and delicacies with him, sliding the service onto her desk by the wall, but she refused to eat in his presence. Oftentimes she would not even speak, merely return to her quiet contemplation of the aimless spirits wandering the town below. He would watch her back turned to him, figure lost beneath the mantle of her cloak. Ganon, in Zant's body, would retire then leaving the tray. It always returned to the kitchens empty.

At first her shrouded form imprisoned as much by this tower as his will was enough. But another visit and another roused his need to strip the princess of her remaining shreds of pride. Her preoccupation with her people irritated him. He would make it so she bowed before him.

He entered her chambers that day, uninvited and unexpected, and she turned to him at the creak of her door. Her gaze had turned decidedly glazed of late, that bland shade of acceptance. He brought nothing with him and this prompted the young woman to turn back to the high windows.

"Your cowl. Remove it." Zant's mouth voiced Ganon's command. Princess Zelda looked back at him, uncertainty hovering over her features at the unusual gruffness in the usually solemn Twili. "Your cowl." Ganon repeated through Zant. The young woman's eyes narrowed, that beautiful smolder beginning to return there in the deep blue. She paused only a moment before her white-gloved arms appeared from the dark folds of her cloak. She reached up and pushed back the hood, her crown glittering defiantly in the firelight.

Ganon's eyes drank in her visage. High cheekbones that had once known the kiss of the sun now paled in its absence, pink lips frowned at him, pencil-thin eyebrows slanted downward in disapproval. And the forgotten crown rendered meaningless in the wan twilight rested on chestnut locks bound and kempt for none to see save him.

Her white arms disappeared again under the folds of her cloak and Ganon decided this paltry foray into obedience was not enough.

"Remove it." He ordered, a thrust of his arm toward her. The princess blinked once, unsure of what she'd heard. The smolder caught fire in her eyes, no doubt a gaze that had quelled many a conflict and trial since her ascension to the throne. But her glare only incited great pleasure in the man. Her jaw set and her head tilted back slightly, the jewel in her tiara gleamed. Ganon schemed numerous punishments if she chose to defy him, but suddenly her hands appeared again, fingers unfastening the ribbons that held her cloak shut.

Ganon watched her steady motions as she deftly undid the clasps, pulled at the knot of the thickly coiled drawstrings and released. The cloak pooled around the hem of her dress.

Princess Zelda stood before him in her royal vestments, a striking figure of the Hylian line boldly staring down his honor with a cold dignity. Ganon noted she still wore her armored spaulders from the day of the Twili invasion. Though the royal had not put the armor or sword to use, choosing surrender over death. Choosing defeat. But her eyes spoke a very different story here in the silent chamber of the tower. They burned with the majesty of nobility and a hidden challenge. What else would he demand of her?

But Zant stood motionless while Ganon thought.

The Princess Zelda. His captive beauty. His caged piece of the Triforce bent to his will but not broken. Not yet.

Suddenly the Twili strode forward.

Zelda's eyes widened perceptibly, her stance shifting to defense. Ganon had to stifle a laugh as her fisted hands rose before her. As though those delicate hands could land so much as a glancing blow on him. Her speed surprised him. Zant caught her right fist in time and twisted so that the young woman cried out in pain. He easily deflected her left hook and twisted her right hand again in warning that he could snap it if he so chose. Her knees bent to relieve the pressure, features twisted in pain. The small defeat sent a pleasurable thrill through Ganon.

Bow.

A golden glow lit the back of the princess' hand. Automatically, the man twisted her wrist to get a better look, ignoring her gasp of protest. The brilliant shine of the Triforce illuminated Zant's helm, the lower left triangle the most radiant of all. Wisdom. The word echoed unnaturally through his mind as though the goddess Nayru herself whispered it. The symbol faded and changed its pattern so the three pieces shone, then the entire triangle as one. Yes, that was it. He would unite the three under his power and dictate the very might of the goddesses for his every whim—worshipped and feared.

The fingers of the emblazoned hand he held closed into a fist, the single triangle of three restored as the most brilliant. Ganon looked into the princess' eyes. There was something unyielding, almost predatory about the stare that nearly unseated the man, abolishing any illusions he may have had at breaking her.

She uttered a single word that resonated from the base of Ganon's spine to his skull.

"Never."

The princess answers his every ambition, realized and speculative, that neither she nor her people will bend to him. Her tone as hard and resolute as the cut stone they stood upon. Their minds converge on the same point, one's release and the other's bane: The third bearer of the Triforce. She knew of him, of course. Her savior and his adversary that even now cut swaths of light back into the milling tendrils of the twilit realm. Hope kept the princess from the clutches of despair; hope barred her from spiraling into the prison of fear he so yearned to trap her in.

And it was hope that rallied the intensity about her in that dark tower restrained by a Ganon-possessed Zant.

Never…

But now the princess laid before him unable to quiver in fear at Ganon's restored form—the height and breadth of a behemoth man who survived the harshness of the deserts and banishment to the Twilight Realm; she lay felled by some others hand. Surely not her own?

Ganon reached out to untie the ribbons and clasps of her cloak, pushing the heavy material aside so that her nubile body lay unshrouded in the dying firelight. His gaze swept her body for injury, punctures, blood, but he saw nothing. His eyes returned to her face. No lines marred the princess expression in this quiet repose, she merely looked to be sleeping.

The man snatched suddenly for her right hand, disappointed but unsurprised to see the Triforce flicker meekly at him as though in vague protest for the unresponsive body that housed it. Her power remained intact, if muted by her current state. Ganon covered the back of her hand with the palm of his right, his own mark of the goddesses glinting to be so close to another of its kind.

The man's gaze returned to the young woman's face. He brushed one wrapped bang from her cheek with his free hand. Her skin cool to the touch. His fingers trailed to her jaw and clasped, turning her head toward his. If only those eyes would look on him now. But the princess did not respond.

Ganon studied her in silence, frustrated that she would make herself unconscious for his grand entrance. She looked so fragile when she could not pin him with her blue eyes. He wanted to see her hatred for him there, the same hatred that nursed him back to health. Ganon grazed his thumb over her soft lips. He had his trophy, but not the way he'd intended.

Ganon gathered the princess up in his arms and carried her down the stairs. Her small form weighing next to nothing in his muscled arms. She may be a lifeless doll but she would still serve him. She would greet the third she so revered. Ganon would make sure of that.

Author's Note: You know, even in the conception of this story I already ran into the problem of how in the hell did Zelda's body reappear in the statue overhead after sacrificing herself for Midna? So I plugged the plot hole, figuring she really was there in the tower all along, sans essence, just sprawled and forgotten until Ganon finds her. But yes, I just played Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess for the first time about a week ago and was inspired to write a fanfic for the pretty warrior princess. (And a brunette no less! YES! Power to the brunettes!)I loved it. The darn thing is addicting. I had to-HAD TO-get everything from all the Poe souls to bagging that freaking Hylian Loach. (Took me over two hours wrestling that damn thing. Link starved to death fishing for days in his canoe.)

I originally intended to write this from Zelda's point of view, but after some thought, I thought Ganon might be more fun. Especially when he bursts in cape billowing 'I am awesome, behold my pow-' Zelda K.O. 'D:' That and I figured Zelda would be bemoaning her people the entire time, as I would expect her to, with a dash of fire when Zant-Ganon tells her to strip a bit. Whee! The Ganon POV was a fun choice as I got to give all of Zelda's feelings secondhand, a challenge, but fun. I just hope I pulled their characters off right.

So Zelda fans, I hope to be welcomed with open arms, if not disdain for taking five years to play the last major installment! (I am so stoked for Skyward Sword.) Please drop me a review for my maiden fair maiden story!

Blackfire 18