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skyloftian-nutcase · 5 months

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”Father. Father! Dad!!”

Ganondorf sniffled, disoriented, hearing urgency in his daughter’s tone. His adrenaline spiked, his body working to wake him up while his mind still lagged behind. He felt Hemisi’s hand on his arm, heard her whispering something in the background. Quickly, he blinked his eyes a few times as the world materialized around him.

He was in bed. Right. They’d all gone to bed after the festivities. Nabooru had already departed for Lanayru Village, so he was alone.

Ganondorf glanced over, looking at his daughter, wondering why in the world she was waking him in the middle of the night. His worry was lessened somewhat when he saw she was unharmed, though she looked quite upset. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Orik,” she answered worriedly. “He’s not ok. He’s with Merovar right now, but I don’t know what to do.”

Merovar? She woke her brother up too? Sighing, the Gerudo king slowly dragged himself out of bed, not quite as alarmed as before. Whatever was worrying Hemisi, it couldn’t be that bad. At least his children were fine.

What could possibly be wrong with her boyfriend, though? Orik had been fine earlier in the day, had played and danced and laughed along with everyone else.

When Ganondorf entered the guest room, he could hear the problem from the doorway.

Orik sat at the edge of his bed, feet planted strongly on the ground, hands braced against his legs, leaning forward. Merovar sat beside him, worriedly patting his back as the boy wheezed. The Sheikah’s eyes were fixed on the floor, widened a little in fear, his entire body trying to work whatever muscle it needed to move air.

“What happened?” Ganondorf asked as he moved quickly to the boy.

“We don’t know,” Hemisi replied shakily. “I heard him coughing and came to check on him and he was like this.”

“I think he’s got a fever,” Merovar added.

Ganondorf knelt down to be close to eye level with the boy. Orik’s gaze flicked to him, any semblance of respect or courtesy that he might usually give lost in the terror that was overriding his body. The Gerudo king noticed little splotches of red on his face, how his eyes were bloodshot… he knew these signs.

Sand fever. The boy had sand fever.

“Merovar, call for the healer,” he ordered, reaching forward to pick Orik up. “Hemisi, draw up a bath. Make the water as hot as you can.”

His children didn’t question him, immediately setting to work. Orik shivered in his hold, chin resting on his shoulder as his hands clawed desperately for purchase, gripping the Gerudo’s hair that spilled over his chest. His breathing whistled painfully by Ganondorf’s ear, and he rubbed the boy’s back as reassuringly as he could as he made his way to the wash room.

It was strange, how quickly it came on. Had the boy been feeling unwell all day and not said anything?

Given his track record, that seemed likely.

Ganondorf bit back his frustration. Why was this idiot boy so careless with his health? Hadn’t he been taught—

Wait. Who had raised him, anyway? And how old was he? Ganondorf had assumed the kid was a few years older than Hemisi, given that he was an independent soldier among Hyrule’s elite, but sand fever didn’t usually hit this severely unless the victim was fairly young.

Perhaps it was simply that he hadn’t been exposed to it before. That had to be it.

Orik’s grip tightened, and Ganondorf felt a few teardrops hit his skin. His annoyance dissipated further, and he sighed a little, whispering, “You’ll be alright, boy. Don’t worry.”

As they entered the wash room, the steam immediately seemed to help. Orik relaxed a little for a few moments before coughing harshly. It was a heavy sound, but it also rang with that familiar cadence that Ganondorf had heard from years of raising his twins, the noise that meant things were actually moving. A productive cough was a healthy cough in this instance.

Ganondorf pat the boy’s back helpfully, swaying in place in the warm room. Hemisi watched worriedly, though Orik’s wheezing subsided a little, bringing everyone some relief.

Eventually, the healer entered with Merovar, and Ganondorf dismissed his children. Hemisi certainly seemed reluctant to leave, but a reassuring nod from her father sent her on her way. He’d check in on them later.

“Hello, love,” the healer said reassuringly to Orik. Ganondorf slowly sat on the small stairs leading to the bath, positioning Orik to rest on his lap, keeping him sitting up as much as he could. The boy was exhausted, having expounded so much energy just trying to breathe. “I have an elixir here for you. Lord Ganondorf was wise to let you inhale some steam too.”

“I think it’s sand fever,” Ganondorf explained. “He’s got the spots and everything; Merovar had it last year.”

“That’s right, I remember,” the healer hummed thoughtfully before returning her attention to Orik. “What’s your name, dear?”

“L…Link…” he gasped out tiredly.

Ganondorf blinked. Blinked again. What?

“It’s his Hylian name!” He heard Hemisi call from just outside, sounding anxious. “Orik is his Sheikah name, he has two, it’s ok!!”

Hadn’t he sent her to her room? His irritation bubbled again, mixed with confusion and alarm.

Link. That was the name of that brat who…

Ganondorf shook his head. That was a different land, a different time. Names overlapped. There had been a woman back in his original era who had been named Nabooru too. That didn’t mean it was the same.

It… wasn’t the same, right?

No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. This boy was far older than the other, not a confidante to the princess and king but simply a guard.

Surely…? Ganondorf had initially encouraged Hemisi’s friendship with Orik because it would allow her to learn the castle security. Surely Orik wasn't doing the same thing, deceiving his daughter to gain entry to Gerudo secrets?

He was spiraling and he knew it. Hemisi knew it, given how she had hastily correct Orik’s—Link’s addled reply.

“How old are you?” The healer asked, measuring out the elixir. “How much do you weigh? Do you know?”

“F-fourteen. I… d-don’t… know.”

Fourteen? He was his twins’ age? Ganondorf had figured this boy was seventeen - wasn’t that the age of adulthood in Hyrule? Why was he an independent soldier, then?

He shook his head. Not now. Don’t worry about this now.

There was no way this boy was a threat. Ganondorf and Nabooru had invited him into their home, had let him participate in Gerudo celebrations when few Hylians had that privilege, and the boy had been nothing but polite. Despite the Gerudo king’s earlier misgivings about the boy, he’d actually started growing to like him. But…

With his rediscovery of the Triforce, paranoias and thoughts of his original land had been plaguing him. This was home, though, and it—it wasn’t the same. Not even remotely. The Hyrule royal family was vastly different, the landscape vastly different, the Gerudo infinitely more powerful… a shared name was a coincidence. Nothing more. Ganondorf knew so little of Hylian naming customs anyway, it was probably a common one. And this boy was not like the other one at all.

Ganondorf sighed heavily, trying to release the uncertainty and bias, trying to give this stupid kid a chance. Orik was watching him now, crimson eyes looking for something, the familiarity of the searching gaze settling in his mind and heart.

Comfort. He was looking for comfort. Ganondorf had seen it time and again in his children.

He sighed again. Closed his eyes. I write my own destiny, and no divine intervention will change that.

Ganondorf pulled the boy closer. “You’ll be fine, child. Drink the elixir.”

Link shakily took the offered drink, sipping at it. The healer explained a few things, but Ganondorf hardly listened; he’d dealt with this illness just a year ago, he remembered most of the details. Sleep, hydrating, medicine, steam to help break things up and cough them out, keep him away from other children so it didn’t spread.

When the healer departed, Ganondorf glanced at the exit, saying, “I know you’re still there.”

Hemisi silently peeked around the doorway.

“I told you to go to your room.”

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” she deflected. “Look, I know when we were kids and you told us that story and you didn’t like that one character—”

“I’m angry because I don’t tolerate disobedience, and you know that. His name is irrelevant.”

Hemisi looked unconvinced.

“Go to bed,” Ganondorf said firmly. “I’ll take care of him.”

His daughter finally complied, throwing one last concerned look at her boyfriend before vanishing.

“‘m sorry…”

Ganondorf glanced down to see Orik looking absolutely miserable, eyes growing puffy.

“Spare me your tears,” he sighed. “It’s not your fault you’re sick. But were you feeling unwell earlier? Did you try to take care of yourself?”

The boy swallowed hard, fighting to control himself.

“Honestly,” Ganondorf grumbled. “This is the second time I’ve had to step in for you, boy. You should know better.”

“I’ve taken care of myself since I was twelve,” Orik snapped all of a sudden, his emotions shifting from appeasement and guilt to anger. “J-just because—I’m not incompetent, and this—it’s n-not like I haven’t been sick before, I just—I just—”

The boy’s argument petered out, interrupted by a painful series of coughs. He tried to move, to stand up, face flushed with fever and exertion and frustration, but Ganondorf held him in place.

“Well this is a different side of you,” he commented with mild amusement. It was good to see some fire in him. Ganondorf was used to the quiet, reserved, ever-so-polite Sheikah. The boy clearly had a lot of fight in him; it was likely tempered by protocol, especially if he’d been fending for himself since he was twelve.

Since he was twelve. That was roughly the age Ganondorf had been when he’d started trying to lead his people, so long ago. It was when his body had started to mature, and though he’d always been the esteemed Gerudo prince, with all the authority that came with it, he hadn’t stepped in to bring a king until he was midway through adolescence.

Orik glared at him, wiggling in his grip. “L-let—let me go.”

Ganondorf almost laughed now. Oh, he’d angered the little fighter now, insulted his capabilities. He liked seeing this side of the boy, but it wouldn’t do him any good in this situation.

“Relax,” he said appeasingly, letting his voice be gentle as he rose and shifted the boy’s weight so he was pressed against him, as upright as he could be. Orik was stiff now, not compliant or scared as he’d been, his face hovering by Ganondorf’s, glare apparent. But the boy’s training and exhaustion won out, and he slowly settled his chin back on the Gerudo king’s right shoulder, letting out a sigh of defeat. “I recognize that you must have some degree of competency if you’ve kept yourself alive for two years.”

“A-almost three,” the boy huffed weakly, a last little spark of defiance before he grew silent, focusing on his rattling breath.

“You’ll be fifteen soon?”

Ganondorf felt the boy nod.

“Well, either way,” he continued, draining the bath and heading for the exit. “You’re my responsibility now.”

“My apologies,” the boy muttered, a more formal attempt at his earlier raw admission. “I—I d-didn’t want t-to—”

“Orik,” he cut the boy off as he reached his room. “Be quiet and listen to me. I’m not upset that you’re sick.”

The young warrior remained silent, body slowly relaxing more and more as Ganondorf walked. The cool breeze of the desert night drifted into the bedroom, warmed a little as it passed over torches and candles. Crickets chirped unceasingly, a constant melody punctuated by crackling flames as Ganondorf slowly paced back and forth, listening to the symphony of the night and contemplating matters.

Hemisi and Orik had been dating for nearly a year now. Ganondorf had learned much of Hyrule in that time, and he finally had an idea where the Triforce was being held. Once he ascertained what guarded it, it would finally be time to put his plan into motion. Nabooru was traveling to different Gerudo settlements to prepare their assault.

Nothing was going to stand in his way. Yet this boy was a potential problem.

Link.

Ganondorf took a deep, steadying breath. Link’s own breaths were soft, congested but gentle in slumber.

The Triforce would be his. It was his right to rule all the lands as he pleased. He hadn’t had the power and clout back then that he did now, when he’d attempted this in the Hyrule of his birth. And, as he’d assured himself before, the Link of his past was far different. The entire political landscape was different - King Ozen was a fool, and so long as one bowed down and preened his ego, he’d give them anything they asked for. Princess Zelda was an invisible girl, voiceless and powerless. And Link…

Well. He didn’t know. Dating someone wasn’t that strong of a commitment. Not strong enough for what was about to come. But, perhaps, once Ganondorf obtained the Triforce, the boy would pledge himself to Hemisi.

He would have to.

I think he might, Ganondorf mused, a small smile forming. But they were both too young for such ideas. And there was still too much in the air between them. Still…

Sighing, Ganondorf finally settled the boy on the bed, making sure he was sitting up against a bunch of pillows. He covered him with a light blanket, watching the shadows on his face as a nearby candle shone light on him.

He didn’t know what the future would bring for this boy. But he knew his own future. He would be victorious. Playing with some of the boy’s hair, he tucked it behind his ear.

Sleep well, Link. The coming days will be long. Hopefully you’ll come out on the right side of it.

Hopefully.

#writing #good ganondorf #imprisoning war #ganondorf #hero of power #Hemisi #legend of zelda #I was listening to ambience and this scene just came and then the characters took over and—#*sigh* I really am obsessed with these guys lol #Skye time travels through the queue

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holdmymallowsweet · 2 months

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A Wisp of Affection

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC

Word count: 1,635

A chance meeting in the depth of a summer night leads to some playful banter, and an intriguing question.

Also on AO3, properly tagged

a/n: I’ve been feeling a certain way about this ghost boy lately, and then I came across Sasha Alex Sloan’s “Dancing with your Ghost” by chance and it put me in a wonderfully melancholic mood. And now that you know what to blame for this, enjoy.

There was something enticing about the Forbidden Forest at night. Laced with a prickling sense of danger, it promised adventure and glory- or perhaps notoriety, for those bold enough to venture into it. He might not have met an untimely death, if it hadn’t been for his odd fascination with the place.

Soft footsteps and rustling in the grass told him someone was approaching, and he felt her presence before he even saw her.

She found him again.

He turned his head to look at her, which always startled her a bit-

But then, where was the fun in getting his head cut off, if he couldn’t use it for comedic effect? And it always made her laugh in the end.

This time was no different, eyebrows raised in a slightly disturbed frown, corners of her lips twitching upwards, she gave him a quick huff of laughter before closing the distance between them.

“Hello, Jackdaw.”

She strode over to him, disturbing a swarm of fireflies as she went, before she sat down.

“Hello, you. Out for a midnight stroll?”

“Always, you know me.” She flashed him another one of her playful smiles.

He returned it fondly. They both liked to pretend that she came across him by accident when they met like this, usually in the depth of night, when everything was quiet, save for the ambient sounds of the forest. He always found it romantic, although not many agreed, at least not the girls he tried to court when he was alive.

She took a deep breath of air. The fireflies illuminating her skin when they flew close and the serene look on her face made her feel like something out of a dream. More of an apparition than himself. The sight would have made his heart flutter, if he’d had one. She brushed a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, only getting it at the second try, and he wished he could have done it for her.

He’d known they were kindred spirits when he sent her off into the cave where he met his demise. When he noticed she still had her head, the next time he saw her, he was both relieved and disappointed. He wasn’t entirely sure how tangible relationships between ghosts could be, but Merlin, he’d have liked to discover it with her, if it had come to that.

Curious, fearless, playful and teasing in a way that felt warm and endearing rather than malicious. Traits that Anne had once shared with her, before Azkaban cruelly burnt them away. Perhaps that’s why he’d briefly entertained the notion of picking up where he left off with this one.

It was quite pointless to think about, really. He wasn’t of her world, and she wasn’t from his time, not even born yet when he was alive. It was no matter, he’d never mature- mentally or physically- beyond his 17 year old self. Whatever it was that they shared on these summer nights, it was a fleeting sensation. Soon enough, she’d outgrow him, worry about employment and other adult responsibilities, perhaps remember him as a schoolgirl crush as she aged while he would be no different than he was now. Waiting around for the next lass or lad who’d indulge him, but she’d likely always be one of his favourites.

He looked up at her- which reminded him that he was still holding his head, which he promptly replaced on his neck- waiting for her to speak. In the beginning, he’d tried to woo her with tales of his adventures, but she wasn’t easily impressed. Understandable, as she had plenty of adventures of her own under her belt. Over time, he realised that it was more rewarding to enjoy the silence with her, until she’d suddenly have a thought, or a question that led to something- a jaunt through the forest or sometimes just a bit of teasing back and forth between them, but he loved it all the same.

“How’s Anne?”

All right, not what he’d hoped for.

“Much the same, really, but I don’t want to talk about Anne right now.” He only ever visited her in St. Mungos out of a sense of moral obligation, she only vaguely remembered him and they no longer had anything to talk about anyway. Being ultimately responsible for her fate, the guilt would forever stay with him, but he didn’t want to let it spoil the moment.

She said nothing, only measured him with those piercing eyes of hers that seemed to see right through him, in more ways than the obvious one. She’d always been the perceptive sort, had a knack for figuring out what went on in the heads of others. It could be quite unnerving, but thrilling at the same time.

“How come I never see you around the castle?” she asked, evidently content to drop her previous question.

“Why, did you miss me?”

He’d avoided her on purpose. She had her own life in the light of day, and he didn’t want to constantly fight the temptation to invade her privacy. This was at most a dalliance, not the romance of the century, and it was better that way, considering their circumstances.

“Do you remember the deathday ballroom? I thought I’d see you there sometimes, but I never do.”

He made a face. “Not really my preferred choice of location. Or company.”

She chuckled. “Not one for dancing, are you?”

“Did you happen to take a look at the other ghosts? Hardly anyone there who’s not old enough to be my mother. Or my grandmother.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain at least some of them died after you.”

“That’s not really how this works.”

She laughed. If only he could dance with her-

Actually, perhaps he could. One of those stiff, boring dances that didn’t involve touching. He watched her as she pushed back that strand of hair again. It was hard to imagine her curtsying in a pretty dress anyway, she looked much better running and scrambling through the forest, with the hems of her robes frayed beyond the capabilities of even the most potent repairing charms.

“You know, speaking of dance partners…”

“Yes?” He was perfectly willing to change his mind though, if that’s where she was going with this.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” she asked, giving him a curious look.

“I’ve done more than kissing, little fledgeling. I was quite popular with the girls in my time.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a derisive snort. “Oh? How’d that work out for you?”

He grimaced. Poorly almost seemed to be an understatement, but then neither of them had ever been as good a match for him as her. More willing and able to follow his clues and solve his riddles than Anne, more intrigued by the treasures in his thief’s den than Apollonia- she was a bit of a magpie herself, much like him. They would have been so good together.

“Why, looking to take advantage of my expertise, are you?” She had no shortage of male acquaintances she might possibly want to kiss. Personally, his galleons were on the freckled brunet- that one reminded him a bit of himself. He wasn’t sure what she would have wanted with the sarcastic, blind one, but then there was no accounting for taste, and she always was a bit unpredictable. He wouldn’t blame her either way, there could never be anything real between the two of them, and she had needs like any other person.

“Do you miss it?”

“Obviously.”

She didn’t respond immediately, staring at her outstretched legs, tapping the tips of her boots together.

“If someone kissed you… uhm, had their lips close enough to yours that you would be kissing, I suppose, do you think you could feel it?”

He took a moment to stare at her. “Of course not.”

She turned to meet his eyes. Was he imagining the slight blush on her cheeks? It was hard to tell in the darkness. Was this going where he thought it was?

“I mean emotionally. You can clearly feel joy, and sadness-”

“Only one way to find out.” He swiftly grabbed his head again, holding it so that he was at eye level with her- if she wanted to, she could laugh, play it off as a joke.

Merlin, that startled expression was even more adorable up close, and her theory was already proven right. He couldn’t remember ever being so excited and nervous about a kiss, not even when he was alive. But there was no way he’d tell her, not while there was still a chance that she’d close the distance, and he could perhaps feel the tiniest sliver of her warmth, or get an idea of what she tasted like.

He almost couldn’t believe his luck when she leaned forward, close enough that he could count her eyelashes, only to stop a finger’s width away from his lips.

Then she smirked. “Did you think I was going to give you my first kiss? Just like that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to count-” he pouted.

She laughed. “If you want my kiss, you’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”

She stood up, brushing dirt off her robes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said, flashing him a last, teasing smile before she turned around and started walking back the way she’d come.

“You’re leaving?”

“For today.”

His mind feverishly tried to come up with something, anything, to get her to stay.

“Wait.”

She turned around, looking at him expectantly.

“How about a riddle? Just for you. In exchange for the kiss.”

Her eyes sparkled.

There was no version of forever that they could share, but on these summer nights, for a brief, fleeting moment in time, she was his.

a/n 2 : So there you go, I wrote this over the course of two glorious moody summer nights and it was so much fun. They always say ‘write what you want to read’, and this really is just something I really, really wanted at that moment, but if you liked it as well (let me know if you did) I’m happy. ❤️ This little encounter takes place after the whole Ranrok issue is resolved and Mc is just another (adventurous) student, Anne has been released from Azkaban and is living at St. Mungo’s permanent care ward, while Jackdaw is trying to settle in as one of Hogwarts’ ghosts. Also, I always imagined Jackdaw as a Slytherin (but I’m coming around to Ravenclaw!Jackdaw) and both MC and Anne as muggleborn Hufflepuffs (I just like the idea of those two being awfully similar, but with the crucial difference that Mc really is as adventurous and clever as Jackdaw expected Anne to be), but in the end none of their houses came up 😅 And finally, english isn’t my first language, so if you liked the story but you had a “she keeps using that word, I don’t think it means what she thinks it means” moment, feel free to let me know (just be nice about it) Cheers!

#hogwarts legacy fanfiction #richard jackdaw x mc #meanwhile my poor neglected ominis x mc longfic is softly weeping in the corner #I actually wanted to write this on my balcony since I live right behind a forest for the perfect ambience #but we have a mosquito plague right now so I would have been eaten alive #the romance of a summer night is just unbeatable #hogwarts legacy #richard jackdaw #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy oneshot

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