Fortune Favors the Courageous

Chapter 37: The Courageous

n. those who endure in spite of fear, danger, or difficulty
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"There are several booby traps in the—Link, focus. There are several... entrapments set in the throne room, should the king ever need to expel an unruly citizen or threatening visitor."

"I didn't realize your dad was such a control freak," Midna commented before taking a bite of the tasteless soup that had been passed out around camp.

"Well, in his defense," Zelda couldn't believe she was saying, "the traps were in place long before he ever took the throne."

"Enough about the morality of it," Purah redirected. "Tell us more about these traps. Do you really think they'll be of any use to us against Ganondorf?"

"I believe so. There is a hidden cannon on each stairway to the raised platform that fires nets to capture anyone trying to rush the king or queen. They're activated from below, where guards would be stationed. The only issue is that I don't know the exact location of these trigg—"

Link piped up before she could finish. "I know where they are. I've been in charge of them before."

Zelda blinked, digesting the words. Time was too short to marvel at the fact that her and Link's lives had been intertwined for far longer than she'd ever realized.

So she continued. "Excellent. However, all that having been said, the most vital trap is the large triangular pattern on the floor where guests are received. It's a hidden drop hatch. The lever to open the trap is on the king's throne, carved discreetly into the side ornamentation, should he choose to punish the person standing before him, himself. If we can just get Ganondorf to stand there, he'll drop into a pit of spikes."

"A pit of spikes?" Link gasped. "You mean the king could send people to their deaths if he felt like it?"

"Yes. Obviously, my father never did. But let's thank the old king that's given us this opportunity now."

They just needed to pull that lever at the right time...

As the great doors creaked open, the smell of death assaulted her nose, a thousand times stronger than the stench that wafted from the fissure in the amphitheater.

The room was dark, but the princess knew its layout intimately. The open stone floor was partly adorned by a red carpet with gold trimming, which led to one of two staircases up to the raised platform that hosted her parents' thrones. From both that platform and the outcroppings above it were several royal banners—some red and some blue—all showcasing the golden family crest. The symmetrical lengths and placements of each one were designed to frame the king and queen from their place upon the thrones in the sightline of anyone who entered.

And sitting there now, lit only by the two torches at the top of the columns, was a king who didn't belong.

"Ah. It's about time you arrived."

Distilled and unadulterated panic rooted Zelda to the ground. She'd heard that voice before— It was made of deep gravel and ancient terror.

That man in her dream— It was Ganondorf. He was real and awful and sitting upon her father's throne, chin rested cooly on his fist. He had the same sickly green skin, long crimson hair and trimmed beard. He was built like a lynel, the exposed muscles of his chest and forearms highlighted by the golden necklace and bracelets that rested taut on his tattooed skin.

"Have you come to cede your kingdom to me?" he purred, leaning forward on a deadly fist.

Don't waste my breath. Enjoy the wreckage of your hubris. Those were the sort of poised retorts she wished to make. But her tongue would hardly curl in her mouth to make the first phoneme.