Fields of Gold

Shadows of the Past

"There would be no need for this field for us not to be enemies..." Ganondorf's words echoed faintly in her thoughts as Zelda stalked the quiet, still hallways of her castle. As promised, her captor had given her the small freedom to retrieve fresh clothes from her old room. Spirits of her former subjects sadly floated by her and Zelda listened to their panicked whispers.

"I will make this right," Zelda whispered back, knowing full well that they could not hear her words. "You will be set free." Her mind wandered back to her interaction with Ganondorf in the field and a pang of guilt shot through her.

"In this field, you are not my enemy..." He had insisted. "You are not my enemy..." Zelda took a deep, steadying breath and tried to free her mind of his words. With the spirits of her subjects, her people that were under her protection, floating helplessly by her, that declaration of his was sickening. How on earth could she ever consider him being anything but an enemy?

Yet her feet still traveled the familiar path to her wing of the castle. She was still making good on his promise to her. Did she have a choice, really? Her fate was tied to the field, and her captor knew that her very life depended on visiting this haven he made.

Zelda huffed angrily and made her way down a familiar corridor. The door to her room lay at the very end. How dare he force her to depend on him? What was in it for him, she wondered not for the first time since she left him in the field. Why was he so triumphant, so...pleased that he had her life in his hands?

A memory of their first meeting in the field came swimming to the surface. His hands softly holding her own, the two of them immersed in their personal sorrows. Then, just hours ago, the ancient foe of her ancestors saying that, in a different life, they would not have been enemies at all...

Zelda could only wonder at the meaning of his intentions and her heart twisted at the implications. She paused at the end of the hall and took another deep breath. It was her imagination getting the best of her. This cursed Twilight was once again poisoning her thoughts. It could not be what she was thinking. Ganondorf had seemed remorseful in their talk together, but his true nature was wicked and dark. He was incapable of whatever she was imagining, Zelda rationalized as she absent-mindedly opened the door to her room. He was merely playing a cruel and twisted game with her.

Zelda opened up her wardrobe and began to sift through layers of silk and chiffon. Each dress that emerged from the wardrobe was regarded for a second and then thrown onto the bed. It did not take long before the room was covered in the jewel colored hues of rejected gowns. In the middle of it all was Zelda, sitting on the plush mattress with her legs pulled to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. Beside her was a pale green gown decorated with ivory lace and long, flowing sleeves. It was one of the lesser extravagant garments she could find, but it still did not seem good enough for what she needed. She did not know exactly what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she was not finding it here. Zelda looked to the green gown, lovely and delicate, and tried to imagine herself wearing it in the field to meet Ganondorf.

She cringed at the thought of how ridiculous she would look. A sense of embarrassment and discomfort swept through her, so overwhelming that she had to push the gown away. If she was already uncomfortable and vulnerable in her Royal gown, Zelda could not imagine how much worse she would feel in something fancy and formal. She needed something that was simple and anonymous. In the field, she did not want to look the part of the Princess. As a Princess, she was Ganondorf's enemy. In the field, she was his unwitting ally, apparently, and she could not play the part if she did not look the part. If only she could find something that made her anonymous, just another girl and not the Princess of—