Thread: The 'Legend' of Zelda (SnowGlassRoses)

... Ganondorf stared her down. His face became very serious, very quickly, as he leaned forward in his new throne to narrow his eyes at the young elven royalty. ... And then he burst into a laugh, deep and hearty, stretching out and leaning back against the throne. Gloved hands came together several times in a clap, a cheer for her, quite obviously amused. Excellent, excellent. You have a spine! I had hoped for this, though I didn't think such a spoiled rotten little twat could possess such... mm, what's the word? Balls. ...It seems my decision to let you live, for now, was a fruitful one. Breaking you is going to be so much goddamn fun! ...Guards! Ganondorf's eyes went beyond Zelda, past her and to the soldiers behind her, armored moblins guarding the door of the throne room. His back straightened as he spoke out her sentence, nonchalant, as if it were nothing more than trifle, Remove her clothes. From this moment on she is no longer a Princess, but simply Zelda, a commoner - a beggar , a stupid little urchin with not a ruby to her name. And I'll have her appearance reflect it. Her clothes. Her-... No. No, wait. Placing his palms on the armrests, Ganondorf pushed himself to a stand, coming to his full, intimidating height, long cloak flowing down to armored calves. His chin tipped downed. His eyes narrowed, as narrow as the wry grin etched and stretching across an evil face. Someone's a defiant bitch, isn't she, he asked, whipping his arms out and to his sides. Raising them chest-high, the dark lord's fingers spread and begin to glow a faint purple color, purple silhouetted in red. Maybe you don't believe me capable, he continued, the slain bodies of the room's over a dozen Hylian soldiers beginning to shake. The purple and red continued down from his fingers to encompass all of Ganondorf's palms, with a similar, much larger ring of magical energy forming around his feet. Bodies shook. A tense, unsettling feeling filled the air, and in a show of blood and nightmares the backs of Zelda's once-loyal guards ripped open, then slain men's skeletons rising, freeing themselves of their mortal bodies. One after another, in a gruesome, sickening display. Clothes were torn. Armored breastplates were destroyed in a show of force as the skeletons rose, birthing from fleshly bodies, blood dripping from their bones. Ganondorf cackled amidst his horrid display of power, summoning Hyrule's own guards to serve him in death, becoming loyal to a cause each gave their lives against. Within moments of coming into existance each skeleton, their bones cricking and snapping with each movement, took up the sword and shield, spear and helm of their once-bodies. But perhaps the most gruesome sight was the ex-King himself, Zelda's own father, having his skeleton rise from his still-warm body right before his little girl's eyes. Such was a display of how heartless Ganondorf could be. Such was a display of his dark, twisted magic. Now, Ganondorf plainly spoke, as if it were nothing, eyes upon Zelda once more, his wicked grin wide as day, strip her, my minions, of any recognition of a Princess. Her clothes. Her jewelry. Undo her hair, make it simple, like some boring, common bitch. And then you're going to take her dignity. Ganondorf retook his seat at the throne, leaning against the gilded chair's high back. Take her to the prison below the castle, but not directly, not immediately - the long way, perhaps? ...It rained last night, didn't it? Pretty hard, if I recall. Why not take little Zelda out for a walk in the courtyard? A walk in the mud? Chase her with arrows, let the boars nip at her heels... Once you're bored of playing with her then it's down to the cellar, to the castle's jail cells. You're likely to come across a few deviants down there, I'm sure, gentlemen and ladies she watched her daddy sentence there for a long time... I think that Zelda, being the last of her bloodline, would be perfect to act as a representative for their anger. Each and every one. Make sure you stop at every cell. If they'd like to smack her around for awhile they're welcome to. Oh, and release them too, of course, compliments of their new King. And when that's all done? I want you to shove her in the smallest, most horrid cell you can find. And that's it. Leave her there, to fucking rot. He took in a slow, deep breath, smiling all the wile. Just as slow was the exhale. A single hand raised, fingers moving in a lazy gesture, Go.