Title: Power

Fandom: Zelda: Twilight Princess

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda nor make profit from this.

!!!SPOILERS!!!

Twilight Princess spoilers for the end of the game.

Power

The Triforce glowed golden in the dim light, a testament to all he remembered.

To all he'd suffered through.

Ganondorf clenched his fist, enjoying the sound of the leather glove protesting to his movement. His whole body ached with power, consuming, writhing through him as he sat waiting on his throne.

He knew the hero, his brethren in destiny, would arrive soon, though it would take him a few hours to find his way through the maze of the castle. Ganondorf watched the door unconcerned, he'd been waiting all of his life, he could wait a little longer.

He let his eyes wander to the princess hanging suspended above his head, her face was more mature, more defined then he had first suspected, used to facing the young girl, blonde curls and innocent eyes. So she had aged as he had.

The Triforce of Wisdom.

She had finally gained control of the power she possessed.

She had rediscovered the knowledge that he had suffered with, during all those repeated lifetimes. Many believed he never truly died, that he lived as he had once, many lifetimes ago, kept in the grasp immortality through complex magic and dark power. That his knowledge, his prowess with sword and spell came from his time spent between realms abiding his time till he was summoned once more to reign chaos on the lands.

He was no immortal.

He had died.

He had been reborn.

Though, there was a small truth behind those whispered legends.

With each lifetime he retained the knowledge, the memories and experiences of his past lives. He was immortal in a sense, that he remembered the dance, the very steps he was forced to take in this never ending dance.

And now, he almost felt sorry for her, the princess, the vessel for the Triforce of wisdom, remembered.

With her growing control over her power she would now be caught in that knowledge. She would know of the part she had played in the past, the one she would play in the future.

They were The Chosen.

Not Gifted, no.

They were cursed.

They were the ones, the three, who lived out life after life, changing, moulding Hyrule in their wake as they waged their battles and legends across it, they were the rotation on which Hyrule spun on.

They were the life blood of the world, that which kept the land, the people from falling into lethargy, apathy. They were the flood that washed away those who had forgotten the power of the Goddesses.

They were death.

Life.

Resurrection.

He had seen that knowledge in the young woman's face when she had stared him down, had seen what he was doing, and had allowed him. Had allowed him to cast the land in shadow, to cast her away and take her place as ruler.

That was why he had saved her when she had given her life to the Twilight Princess, why she hung suspended waiting for the boy and the imp to come and save her, like Ganondorf knew the hero would.

It was written that the three would meet in a final cumulation.

It was their destiny.

Had he not been caught in its thrall, life after life? He leant his chin on his fist, his other hand curled around the arm rest, strong fingers tapping a staccato on the polished wood. He had once tried to fight the pull of their respective destinies, had refused to play the game of power, content in his life as a Gerudo King, keeping his people safe, healthy, free.

The reign of King Ganondorf had been a wealthy one, a peaceful neighbour of Hyrule, riddled with very few wars or conflicts, and he had died of old age, empty of purpose, with a longing that had leached into his next life.

When he was awoken, reborn, he had seen how the land had fallen into lethargy, how Hyrule had aged and withered in his absence, in his fight against his destiny.

There had been no courageous hero, no wise princess, and no cleansing of the people or of the land.

The longing had pulsed inside him, the force had built.

He had felt something shatter inside him and had given in to the pull.

Power.

Crushing the royal family, he had ruled over Hyrule with an iron fist, conquering all those who stood in his way, until a hero was born, helped on his journey by a princess of wisdom. It wasn't the pure power that was housed with in him that made him evil, it was his destiny.

His destiny to meet the great hero, a young boy caught in the same thrall as he.

A young boy that sometimes appeared in the guise of a young man. Link.

Link of fair hair, fairer skin and piercing blue eyes. Garbed in worn green, carrying a battered shield and the Master Sword, and every time, Ganondorf saw the wounds the boy carried in his step, the burden he was forced to carry.

Link was always a reluctant hero, perhaps the boy remembered, however faintly, the millstone that was placed around his neck each time he was called upon.

Ganondorf sighed, rubbing wearily at the wound between his ribs where the light burned into him. This time it had been more difficult, the Sages had banished him beyond the scared realm into Twilight. It had taken him longer to manipulate his way out, still wounded. Longer for the young man to piece everything together and to bring himself to their destined meeting.

Ganondorf blinked at the blue eyed wolf, felt his presence and smiled.

"Link."

The imp on his back growled, the wolf turning swiftly into a standing man, blue eyes still as fierce, no sense of recognition flitted across the youthful face.

And Ganondorf knew.

Knew with a sudden certainty that the boy would probably be caught unknowing in this game of the Goddesses for eternity.

Courage could not be forged from past lives, it needed a new, fresh start each time, otherwise the power of the Triforce the boy held would become jaded. No one could keep up a courageous front against the knowledge that they would fight the same battle life after life, struggle after struggle.

Courage in the face of an eternity of death and loss? Not even the Goddesses could believe the power of Courage could over come that. Which was why the boy presumably began each life with a fresh memory, a fresh life, something to fight for.

But each time they faced, Ganondorf couldn't help but hope, that maybe a small flicker would flash across the youths face, something to tell him that Link understood, knew why he was forced to torture and kill, forced to play their parts in destiny.

They needed to meet.

They needed to stand face to face.

He had almost seen that understanding when he had fought the boy, after he had lost seven years of his childhood. He had almost found acceptance and comprehension when their blades had clashed, after the young man had given everything up to become what the Goddesses had moulded him into.

They had stood and faced each other on the torrents of Hyrule castle.

Ganondorf had been so close…

But this boy before him, this young farmer garbed in the Great Hero's clothing, no, this young man was too innocent, not jaded enough to have seen half of what the other's, the previous Links, Ganondorf had faced, had seen. He had not lost nearly as much as his previous lives had. Ganondorf felt disappointment slide through him, it was ironic that he had lost the most he could ever remember in any of his lives, had been forced to endure so much more then he had ever before, believing that maybe this time, this time he would see acknowledgement, remembrance in the boy's gaze, only to find, this boy… this boy was still an innocent farmer at heart.

There was no warrior in that stance, in that grip on the sword. He still wore the green cloth with a sense of unfamiliarity. No, this Link was not the hero he sought.

The imp snarled in her language which he had no trouble in learning from the weak and imbecilic advisor.

He didn't bother to listen too closely, he knew he would have to sacrifice himself, for Hyrule, for the princess, for which he held little resentment for, this time. She would, from now on, carry the same burden as he, suffer his knowledge that they would be forced to play there parts, for the Hero, for their destiny.

He fought with little strength, not even bothering to finish off the Twilight princess.

Only this mattered.

The bare field, the land solid beneath his boots.

The wind catching his cloak, and the strands of the others blonde hair, brushing it into blue depths.

He stood face to face with his destiny.

He would live another life and perhaps then, when he had plunged Hyrule into darkness and Link, called upon by the sages, or by another, would rise to challenge him, and maybe then, maybe then the young man would face him with lowered sword and a knowledge that shouldn't taint those beautiful eyes, and they could all live, and the Goddesses would let them be.

The sword thrust through his ribs, the boy kneeling over him leaning on the sword, and he remembered crying out, cursing his destiny, the Goddesses.

But somehow, now, he stood, frozen in time staring into the wide eyes of the boy.

Saw sudden recognition, saw pain and suffering.

Saw the princess's bittersweet smile.

Saw the promise.

Saw them both acknowledge it.

Yes, he didn't need to worry, he would see them again.