"M-m-master…the hero has b-b-breached our defenses….."

The moblin shook as it knelt, its pudgy eyes threatening to tear up as they remained trained on the ground, its head too frightened to look up and gauge its Master's reaction.

Ganondorf sat silently on the throne of Hyrule, his face as solid as stone as he glared at his trembling servant.

The hero has arisen from the province of Ordon. The hero has entered the twilight. The hero has defeated the minion guarding the temple. The hero has contacted the sages of old. The hero has breached the Palace of Twilight. The hero has defeated Zant.

"The…hero…" the King of Evil hissed through clenched teeth as he gripped the armrests of his throne, his knuckles turning white as the marble under his fists threatened to crack from his almighty power.

"Master…?" The moblin squeaked in a barely audible voice. Ganondorf's eyes snapped open in shock, as if he just realised that there was another being present in the overly lavish throne room. His expressionless face began to contort, and the moblin felt fear grip its heart, its tiny form frozen in place due to its unspeakable terror of being in the Master's presence when he received such displeasing news.

The Gerudo stood up so swiftly that his worn cape flapped to its side, his eyes glaring at the ground as his nails dug into his hand, his body shaking slightly from the might of his anger. The moblin fell back, convulsing uncontrollably as it silently begged for a swift death.

Ganondorf was having none of that.

"…Get…out…"

The moblin did not move out of shock. The Master was sparing him!

The Gerudo's head suddenly snapped up, his eyes smoldering with an uncontrollable rage.

"I SAID GET OOOOUUUUUUTTTTT!"

The roar shook the area with its power, and the moblin turned tail and ran faster than it ever had out of the room.

That was the absolute last time it was delivering any message to the Master!

The Gerudo threw his arms out into the air as he gave out an indignant roar. His hand shone brightly as his Triforce of Power pulsed strongly, its divine power coursing through his veins as he let out a slew of curses. Completely consumed by his uncontrollable rage, he threw his fist against the wall. A wave of dark magic spread through the entire room, cracking the age old marble until he heard a deafening crash. Not caring about what precious statue he may have just destroyed, he drew his arm back again to punch something else when a wave of pain hit him and caused him to fall to his knees.

The pain cleared his mind, and instead he hung his head limply, lifting his open hands to eye level.

"Seems like the marble has broken my hand…..the Hylians are good for something afterall…."

His amber eyes looked up to the statue that had cracked and fallen from the wave of magic he had released. Usually, he would have felt a sadistic sort of satisfaction for being able to damage so much with just one spell…

His amber eyes lost their glow as they narrowed, his gaze focused on his open palms.

"Everything I do…" he said quietly as he slowly opened and closed his hands, ignoring the agony of moving his fractured bones. He closed his eyes and accepted the pain. Pain has always been his best narcotic, the only thing that allowed him to see beyond his anger, his rage…

His incompetence.

His broken hand rose up as his eyes inspected them. He turned it about slowly, his gaze observing them with wonder as if it were the first time he was really seeing his hand. They were big hands, able to hold and protect just as much as they was able to crush and kill. His fingers were pudgy and calloused, a clear sign of the hard life he had lived throughout all his years. They proudly bore the stark white scars of the battles he had fought throughout his life.

"These…hands…"

The Gerudo shut his eyes, and for once, he did not think of the blasted hero, the Triforce, the damned princesses, those devilish sages, his darkness, his evil…

He only thought of these hands…

These were the same hands that had massaged his mother's weary feet after a successful raid. These were the same hands that carried buckets of water to his thirsty sisters. These were the same hands that cut the meat to feed the hungry Gerudo children. These were the same hands that tended to elderly and the ill. These were the same hands that had built homes to protect his people from the unforgiving sun. These were the same hands that had held and caressed any Gerudo from the poorest to the noblest, the same hand that had proudly held his little Gerudo daughters, the same hands that had held the sword that furiously defended his home, the same hands that had promised to nourish their land, their desert…

….the same hands that had killed thousands of people. The same hands that had destroyed Hyrule. The same hands that had turned his precious people away from him, the same hands that had selfishly abandoned the ones who had nurtured and cared for him, the same hands that had lead the children of the desert to the gallows…

It didn't matter if he lost or won today …It didn't matter if he would stand victorious over the hero and that damned princess's corpses…It didn't matter if the Goddesses gave him the world at his feet…

They were gone…the reason he had truly started all this…even the Triforce couldn't bring them back as he knew them, this he was certain of.

"Why…? These…hands…"

He didn't realise the tears that flowed freely down his cheeks, soaking his beard and falling into his open hands, settling into the deepest grooves of his skin. He did not try to stop them; it was the last thing he could do in their memory…the only moment he could spare for them before he would be consumed by his anger and lust for power…

He sobbed quietly, alone in the vast emptiness of the chilled throne room, his head bowed down in shame.

"I'm…s-s-so…s-s-sorry…it's all…my…fault…these …hands…"

For once in his life, he wasn't the King of Evil, the Usurper, the King of Thieves, the evil beast of legend….

He was Ganondorf, the Prince of the Gerudo Desert who had once loved and protected the children of the desert.

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