#lozbotwtotk

[toushindai]

Ganondorf is the only sage whose physical appearance changes so dramatically by the use of his secret stone—and not immediately upon gaining it, it appears to be a deliberate use of power—which is interesting. What interests me even more though is the way in which his Demon King appearance takes on subtly more Zonai-like aspects. Specifically his fingernails and toenails grow to points, like we see on Rauru and Mineru (and Link), and his hair goes from half-bound in a topknot to loose and flowing, which I take for a cultural norm among the Zonai given Rauru’s long and barely contained locks and the fact that most (all?) of the clothes we get that originate with the Zonai (the dragon sets, the zonaite set, the archaic set (though we could debate whether that set is “Zonai” or specifically “founding-era Hyrulean” and pick apart which cultural signifiers are which in a post that’s not about Ganondorf), the glide set) feature Link with his hair down.

I’m walking a delicate and nearly contradictory tightrope here because I feel that the heavy Japanese-inspired elements of Ganondorf’s design and his weaponry are a reflection of his sense of alienation from his own Gerudo culture with its more fantasy-Middle-Eastern vibes, BUT it is not to be denied that there are Gerudo elements to what he wears—the gold of his jewelry, the Gerudo emblem on the underside of his robe and in the jewelry on his shoulder. And his hair, I think, combines both that Japanese vibe with the Gerudo look. He keeps his gold jewelry after his Demon King transformation—and this is an interesting contrast with the ancient sages who bedeck themselves in anonymizing zonaite masks even before becoming sages, hey game designers talk me through that choice please—but it’s elements of his own body that he changes to reflect grooming choices of the Zonai.

And I am just thinking about what he feels, exactly, about the Zonai. He scorns the fact that they are regarded as gods, but does not debate—and in fact openly states—that their power is godlike. He is covetous of it, to the extent that he perceives it as being lorded over him, which I don’t honestly feel is an accurate assessment of Rauru et al.’s attitude.

There’s something that makes me sad here. I think that Ganondorf believes, down to the depths of his soul, that not only the right to rule but personal worth is won by being powerful, by being the MOST powerful. And so Rauru’s kingdom, formed through friendship and goodwill, is illegitimate and a sign of weak minds and also how dare the Zonai come in and take over by vibes rather than by force and why won’t they meet him on the field of battle where he can prove himself. While at the same time, his own position in Gerudo society is not earned in the way that reflects his own personal values. What I guess I’m talking around is, I think there’s a part of Ganondorf that wants to be Zonai so that he can be better at using the power the Zonai have than the Zonai are. While also loathing them. While also bitter about the fact that he missed his chance to prove himself against their whole society. Part of him thinks if I were Zonai, I would have what I wanted. And when he gets what he wants, he makes himself just that little more like a Zonai.

[toushindai]

@tbposting you absolutely cannot leave this in the tags.

Really needed to draw Yona I think she'd be besties with Link

[toushindai]

I believe that Zonai constructs are unfamiliar with the concept of lying, EXCEPT the ones on the dive ceremony islands which are shaking me down for zonai charges as hard as they can out of sheer desperation. and I support them. construct on courage island, having watched all their friends crumble to dust: oh yes you need to offer a zonai charge. to the island. it's very traditional. me: u got it boss

[toushindai]

This is me yelling about the game teaching you to think like a Zonai again. Because here is the thing. We have no reason not to think that the Zonai, like Link--like the player--occasionally found themselves in situations where there's an uneven ceiling above them that's just a little too high for ascend but if they walk around taking little half-steps under the lowest part eventually the light will turn from red to green (back to red--no--gr--red again--still red--come on--GREEN OK LET'S GO). I am telling you that there were absolutely Zonai memes about that experience. There were memes about making yourself some kind of shitty scaffolding so that you could get higher than Ascend will take you. There were memes about longbridge, I GUARANTEE there were memes about longbridge. I say this with certainty because there are instant bridge and instant scaffolding schema stones. If the Zonai knew anything it was how to cheese things with their powers.

And Link experiences all of this throughout the game, he learns to use these powers he's been granted that were a natural part of this dead species' everyday life. He discovers how to think about them and he is taught, by the shrines, how to think about them. How to interact with the world around him like the Zonai would have.

And then that's taken away from him!!! And I insist that that has got to feel awful!!!

[toushindai]

The Boar

Ganondorf and Rauru hunt together and discuss Zonai philosophy.

(Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, Ganondorf & Rauru (it is a &, not a / yet), 2.4k words, rated T. Warning for animal death.)

[ Read on AO3 ]

*

A rhythm establishes itself quickly at Hyrule Castle. In the morning Ganondorf and Rauru meet, surrounded by their advisers, to negotiate the terms of Gerudo’s subsumption into Hyrule; in the afternoon, Ganondorf is left free to arrange his own schedule. Well, moderately free. Based on the polite stonewalling of Hyrule’s soldiers, he can guess that any attempt to stray too far from the castle would be blithely discouraged.

So he is surprised when, the day’s discussions done, Rauru invites him to join a hunt in the lowlands of Central Hyrule that afternoon.

“I would be honored to hunt with you,” the Zonai says, delicate fingertips touched to the animal totem he wears at his chest. His secret stone dangles from a cuff on his wrist, but Ganondorf holds his gaze with a polite impassivity on his face.

“Your Majesty’s invitation is very generous,” he says, and there is no particular reason to refuse. “What time shall we depart?”

They ride out together after a light lunch, trailed by a party of servants and chattering courtiers whose names Ganondorf has no inclination to learn. They pick up on his disinterest quickly enough and fall back. Only Rauru rides at Ganondorf’s side, his horse dwarfed by Ganondorf’s black stallion. The Zonai sits straight up in his saddle, his long white hair for once gathered into a thick braid, and sends sidelong glances Ganondorf’s way as they ride along the paved path that curves away from the castle and towards the gate that separates the Great Plateau from the rest of the land.

“Do you hunt often?” he asks, his voice mild and reasonable. “I must confess ignorance as to what sort of hunting there must be in your desert home.”

An ignorance that will not keep him from attempting to claim Gerudo lands for his own, of course. He has been surprisingly rapacious at the negotiating table, demanding far more than the Gerudo have to offer, and all the while watching Ganondorf for his response. Ganondorf is not so stupid as to reveal the temper he is looking for. Now, Ganondorf only answers, “The desert itself offers little in terms of animal prey. There are elk in the highlands, but as for more accessible game, I have usually hunted monsters. Or at least, I did, until Your Majesties were so kind as to seal away the vast majority of monsters in the region.”

He does not sneer; he only smiles. Rauru inclines his head as though he thinks Ganondorf’s gratitude is genuine. “Gerudo is more peaceful now, then?” he asks.

“You might say that.” Ganondorf shrugs in his saddle. “It was previously the role of the Gerudo military to keep the monsters at bay. Now, of course, we welcome Hyrule’s gracious protection.”

Rauru hums in acknowledgment.

Speaking such cloying flattery makes Ganondorf’s skin crawl. So, too, does the obvious pleasure with which Rauru receives it. Hyrule’s king cannot possibly believe Ganondorf’s act, this performance of the craven ruler begging for shelter; he is too wily for that. And yet he plays along, readily accepting the premise that Gerudo should be submissive to Hyrule. That Ganondorf should be submissive to him. His eagerness to have the Gerudo under his thumb is sickening in its audacity.

Now, Rauru says, “Perhaps that is the issue, then, with those insurgents of yours. They have been left without monsters to hunt and instead occupy their time harassing my borders.”

“Do you think so?” Ganondorf asks, his voice bland and too edgeless to mean Do you really think we have no reason to take up arms against you?

“Is there another explanation?” Rauru asks. His voice is bland, too. “This is a problem I have now that I did not have under your predecessor. If the cause is not boredom, then what am I to think? A simple failure of leadership?”

Ganondorf’s stallion tosses his head suddenly. With conscious effort, Ganondorf loosens his grip on the reins, although what he wants to do is cast them around Rauru’s throat and strangle him with them. “The Gerudo police our own, Your Majesty,” he says. “The insurgents will not trouble you for much longer.”

“That is good to…”

Rauru trails off. His gaze has gone suddenly distant, towards the edge of a wooded area. Ganondorf follows his line of sight and sees a wild boar scratching in the grass of the open field. It snuffles and, as they watch, ambles a little further from the trees.

With a tug on the reins, Rauru halts his horse. When he holds up a hand, the sound of hooves quiets from ten meters back as the rest of the hunting party stills as well. Then he readies his bow and takes aim at the boar.

“This has been a problem recently,” Rauru murmurs in explanation to Ganondorf’s nonplussed silence. “There is a sounder of wild boars in the Forest of Spirits, there. All well and good, but these days they have begun venturing out of their territory and endangering the Hylians living in the area.” The tip of his arrow tracks the boar’s oblivious movement. “It’s unfortunate, but the only recourse is to cull them.”

He shoots, and the boar goes down.

An obsequious cheer rises from behind them.

“My men will retrieve the carcass,” Rauru says, and with a click of his tongue he encourages his steed back into motion. Ganondorf does the same, although his gaze remains on the fallen beast until it is out of sight. There is a strange heat on the back of his neck.

“As for your insurgents,” Rauru says, easily resuming their earlier topic as they near the Great Plateau Gate, “you will have Hyrule’s support in subduing them.”

“That will be much appreciated,” Ganondorf lies.

*

They reach the Forest of Time in another half-hour’s ride, and then dismount to leave their horses with the grooms. “Do not injure him,” Ganondorf says as he hands over the reins to a wary-looking Hylian. “You cannot afford what he is worth.” Although it is far more likely that the stallion will attack the groom; he has a temper. If the Hylian is not careful, he may lose a finger.

And then it is into the forest in quiet pursuit. Again the hangers-on stay back, allowing the two kings their companionship—if that is what it should be called. They do not converse just now as they weave through the trees. Rauru only keeps glancing at Ganondorf, his eyes narrowed as though something troubles him. Whenever Ganondorf catches him staring, he shakes himself and looks forward again.

It is cool in the forest, the air verdant and the trees close. The ground is littered with pebbles and fallen twigs, and it takes Ganondorf a few minutes to learn how to ease his weight forward so as to not announce his presence with each footfall. Rauru seems to do the same without conscious thought. The Zonai is alert, but calmly so, his bright eyes roaming their surroundings whenever they do not catch on Ganondorf. There is a sort of irritating ease to his bearing. It does not seem to cross his mind that Ganondorf might be a threat to him. It would be so easy for Ganondorf to draw a hidden knife—he has one in the folds of his belt, of course he does—and drive it into Rauru’s bare midriff and drench this idyllic, peaceful scene in blood, but this never occurs to Rauru. Which is ironic, considering the inherent violence of a hunt. Hyrule’s king is a fool. Ganondorf never would have allowed a hunting party of his own to be so lax in their attitude.

But, if hunting is a genteel thing in Hyrule, then so be it. Ganondorf still intends to demonstrate his own prowess. The first quarry, a trim young buck, falls to an arrow from Ganondorf’s bow, as does a doe soon after. Rauru seems to realize then that this may be a competition and takes down a doe of his own. Each time, they leave their spoils to be claimed and processed by the servants in their wake. When they miss their next target—Rauru’s shot goes wide, too hastily aimed, and the buck startles out of Ganondorf’s sights—Ganondorf lowers his bow and turns towards the Zonai.

“Is it only deer in these woods, Your Majesty?”

“Yes.” Rauru lowers his own weapon and strides forward to retrieve his fallen arrow. Ganondorf watches his movement, the swinging of his thick braid of hair. “They are the best hunting in Central Hyrule. There are boar elsewhere on the plains, but as with those in the Forest of Spirits, we don’t typically kill them.” He pulls the arrow from the ground and returns it to his quiver, then turns back to look at Ganondorf, his face lofty and placid. “Unless they exceed their territory and cause problems, of course.”

“Of course,” Ganondorf agrees, calmly. As though the insinuated threat bores him. That heat prickles on the back of his neck again, but its warning is superfluous. He walks towards Rauru and then past him, his gaze once more scanning the woods around them. Behind him, Rauru too resumes his procession. They walk in silence for a moment, surrounded by the rustling of leaves and the occasional flitter of a bird or insect, and Ganondorf turns thoughts slowly over in his mind, looking for the right angle of approach.

At last he gives a grunt, halfway to a contemplative laugh.

Rauru’s ears twitch as he tries to resist the bait. He fails, and with diplomatic curiosity in his eyes, he prompts, “Hm?”

Ganondorf shrugs. He gives another smile that is not a sneer. “It strikes me as very Zonai of you to leave the boars be only until they inconvenience you.”

Something in Rauru’s face pulls shut very abruptly. “What do you mean by that?”

A fitting question, given that there are a great many things Ganondorf could mean by that. Ganondorf has done his own research into Zonai culture, Zonai history; there was a time in his youth when his interest in the people of the sky bordered on obsession. He learned how they lived on the surface once but fled to the sky to separate themselves the surface-dwellers; he learned how they reengaged with the surface only when they needed resources they could not gather on their own. There is something extractive, if not outright exploitative, in the Zonai attitude towards other tribes. Rauru’s founding of the kingdom of Hyrule is an unsubtle continuation of the same.

But what Ganondorf says is, “Boars were sacred to your people, were they not? A symbol of sacred power and force, and one of your ruling houses.”

A pause. “You are very knowledgeable,” Rauru says. It does not sound like a compliment. “However, I believe you may misunderstand what you have learned. The House of Boars was one of our ruling powers, yes, but the animal itself was never sacred. And that house’s prominence faded many centuries ago. Their vision for leading our people proved… misguided.”

“Misguided?” Ganondorf presses, affecting idle curiosity. Rauru does not respond. The tips of his ears are trembling; it would be unnoticeable if not for the way his many dangling earrings shake. Ganondorf continues, “Perhaps I do misunderstand. Your Majesty must forgive me if I do. But what I have heard is that the House of Boars was home to the most powerful and most imposing of your people. It was their place to draw the dividing lines between the Zonai and all others. The Hylians called them barbarous for that, and feared them. Is that why you call them misguided?”

Rauru straightens. “Yes, as a matter of fact,” he says, and the idleness is gone from his bearing. Now there is coldness and scorn, and neither one hides the defensiveness in the angle of his chin. “They did not only draw dividing lines, as you say; they sowed division.”

“And for that, the rest of your people decided to stamp them out of existence.”

“They were too selfish,” Rauru continues, speaking over Ganondorf. “Too hungry for power at the expense of those they ruled over. When the last ruler of boars took up arms against the other houses, there was no choice but to put an end to them.”

“Just as you cull the wild boars now,” Ganondorf observes.

Rauru searches his face, his eyes intense. Ganondorf leaves him nothing there to find. The Zonai asks, “What are you trying to say, Ganondorf?”

For a moment, Ganondorf does not have an answer to that question. Rauru is uncomfortable on the subject of his ancestors and he wants to make Rauru uncomfortable. Rauru is a hypocrite like his ancestors and refuses to see it. But there is something else here, something that has been gnawing up Ganondorf’s spine since Rauru took aim at the stray boar on the Great Plateau. Or since Ganondorf first learned how the Zonai suppressed the worship of power in favor of other virtues, long, long ago.

Ganondorf holds Rauru’s stare for a moment longer; then he breaks it deliberately to look around. There, in the distance, he sees a flash of brown between the trees. He draws his bow unconcernedly and, several deliberate seconds later, lets the arrow fly. The buck lets loose a shrill animal scream as the arrow pierces its ribcage.

“I find your ancestors very interesting, Your Majesty,” Ganondorf says, as the echoes of its agony die away. “They condemned the House of Boars for their worship of power. But I do not think that you have disavowed the Boar as thoroughly as you think you have. You have only made it into something you are unwilling to name.” He lets his lips twist in a facetiously gracious smile. “Be careful, King Rauru, that Hyrule’s enemies do not claim it in your stead, lest you leave your kingdom undefended… and destined to fade away as your own people have.”

Rauru’s face grows hard and contemptuous. His lips curl, just slightly, revealing the tips of very, very sharp teeth. For just a moment, Ganondorf lets his own smile reveal a hint of cruel triumph.

Then Rauru composes himself, his face going blankly mild once again. He inclines his head and touches his fingertips to the totem on his chest. “I will certainly take that under advisement, Ganondorf,” he says, “in the spirit in which it was meant.”

And for the rest of the afternoon they pursue their quarries without much conversation at all.

[toushindai]

[ID: an image from the trailer for the BOTW prequel, made into a meme. Link, in the foreground of the image, is labeled, “me waiting for the BOTW sequel.” In the bacground, Revali takes aim at Link’s head from behind and is labeled, “Nintendo announcing a BOTW prequel”]

nintendo really said “have some botw0 while you wait for botw2!” 

[toushindai]

like every now and then I wonder. am I being too hard on Rauru. am I being too me about that scene by thinking that he's leaning on Ganondorf a little harder than necessary, that he's being just a little more condescending than he has to be, that he maybe likes a petty power play a little more than the rest of how the game seems to want us to think of him would imply.

but let's be real, he and Ganondorf are in full agreement that Rauru's fatal flaw is arrogance. and also. someone very kind directly translated* the Japanese cutscenes into English the other day (x) and I

G: “For our late attendance for your repeated invitations, we the Gerudo tribe offer our heartfelt apologies. We pray that you will allow us to join you as your lower-class vassal.” R: “Admirable Ganondorf, I recognise your submission to Hyrule Kingdom. A man is said to be born only once in every 100 years to the Gerudo tribe. To be able to welcome a warrior called ‘king by birth’ into my Hyrule… is indeed a reassuring development.”

(breathes calmly) lower-class vassal. your submission to Hyrule Kingdom. my Hyrule. the nasty little implication (am I imagining this) that Ganondorf--proud warrior, king--is now subsumed into Hyrule and is become Rauru's possession. I am still breathing calmly. I am deeply normal about this.

Like I have seen people argue that no no, the other peoples/tribes weren't asked to submit to Hyrule, they were simply allies of the new kingdom, but Ganondorf sure seems to think that submission is what Rauru's after or at least is the bait he will willingly take; and even knowing full well that that's an evil guy Rauru is more than willing to play along.

and yet the game still wants us to look at Rauru as a Good King figure. as a noble ruler. And the thing is I am honestly convinced that he does actually want or at the very least he is convinced he wants to unite the peoples of Hyrule simply so that everyone can be united and be friends! I do actually think this is his genuine desire! I also think he made up a kingdom so he could be king of it and this is inherently an action to be deeply suspicious of. He is arrogant. Again, the game is quite firm on that point. There is a sort of presumption that power should rightfully lie with him.

and I posit that when he's faced with Ganondorf, known evil bad guy, whatever part of Rauru's superego tells him that he should tamp down the part of him that enjoys being the one with power simply... steps back a little. because it's all right, here. Ganondorf is evil, so it's allowed.

* Disclaimer: I don’t think this is a superior translation, to be clear, and I do feel that both this and the official English are effectively giving the same vibe; I appreciate & share it primarily as another take on the same concept. It’s easier, I think, to solidify conclusions when you’ve got things to compare/contrast with each other.

[toushindai]

actually the best evidence in favor of dadjoke Rauru is the Unlit Blessing shrine

[toushindai]

master works did not give me much more about the Zonai in the realm of things I was actually interested in but did potentially present the building blocks to make the depths/the mines even more fucked up. impressive!

so the Zonai maybe presented a bunch of poes to the bargainer statue below the central mine in exchange for the ability to mine the depths huh? where'd they get a bunch of poes huh? were they, er, homemade? (and did the Zonai subsequently take that statue's eyes, so that they continue to do whatever they wanted to in the depths?) that's one thought.

another thought. combine [maybe the unidentified statues leading to the central mine were some earlier or less powerful form of zonai] and [maybe not every Zonai had the Zonai powers we are familiar with; after all, autobuild is taught] and [the existence of the ascend pillars in the depths] and you arrive at the possibility of a higher-class bunch of Zonai who can descend to the depths through chasms and leave through ascend pillars and who use the labor of a lower-class, less-magically-abled bunch of Zonai who cannot freely come and go from the depths and are... employed (is one option) by the higher-class Zonai to work in the mines.

the first idea I'm pretty much committed to I think, waffling on whether the Zonai were responsible for blinding the statue. the second, I'm still chewing on. "actually those statues are Zonai" can't possibly be an asspull but it is so un-signposted in-game that I am irritated with it and still going "so the book said 'maybe' right?" at it. Moreover the book gently suggests that chasms were always just chasms, not--as I've been assuming--the empty shafts of mechanized elevators like the one in Tobio's Hollow, and at that idea I stick out my tongue and say nyeh. so it is not playing very nice with my headcanons.

(I am releasing this post into the wild but in spite of this post being about Maybe the Zonai Were Fucked Up, I happen to like them, so if you are going to be very very mean to them I invite you to do so on some other post.)

[toushindai]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Mineru (Legend of Zelda) Additional Tags: Robot Kink, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Body Dysphoria, (not gender related), selfcest-adjacent, Somnophilia-Adjacent, The Author Regrets Only That This is So Goddamn Hard to Tag, Autosexuality Series: Part 2 of Body and Spirit Summary:

Mineru knows that she should think of her body as herself, and this construct as a tool. But—

(a sequel? follow-up? to embodiment. no one particularly asked for it but regardless, here it is. I guess I’m committed to this characterization now.)

[toushindai]

speaking as someone who's repeatedly described herself as "just a girl trying to be an encyclopedia," I really wish we got more of Mineru

(headcanon/character analysis below)

My headcanon for the Zonai is that they just kind of. declined. Something about life in the sky made there be less and less of them until they dwindled to an unsustainable population level. This may be related to how much zonaite they can access--the idea of zonaite being scarce in the sky is introduced really early on[1]. And in terms of "the Zonai and scarcity" I also want to point at the description for the hydrant device, which says that the Zonai were experiencing water shortages until they invented the hydrant, which is an absolutely batshit thing to say, by the way. But anyway: scarcity. Something unsustainable about the way they lived. That's the general vibe for me.

So we have just Mineru and Rauru, now, and I think that that solitude sat differently on each of them. I think it drove Rauru to the surface, out of curiosity but also out of this horror of loneliness. We feel that loneliness when we explore the sky islands: that beautiful, lowing horn music--the cries of the birds--the gold during sunset that eats into your eyes and makes it hard to believe that you exist. A beauty that doesn't need you there. I think Rauru needed to escape that.

Mineru, I think, didn't feel that loneliness in the same way because upon realizing how little was left she buried herself in learning everything she could about the Zonai. This is after all (most likely) the first thing we learn about her: that she knows the most about the Zonai out of anyone. We know also from the tablets in the sky that she would often bury herself in her studies to the extent that she would forget to eat or sleep. And, we know the nature of her research: building a construct that would house her spirit after her body passed. There is not a doubt in my mind that she intended to make herself into the last of the Zonai, everlasting. A preserving tomb for her heritage. When she saw that she and Rauru were the last ones left--all that there would ever be--she put aside any desire to be her own person and instead intended to contain all her people's knowledge and legacy in her spirit and in the construct she crafted for it.

(But to some extent, this necessitated holding on to her sense of self. I already had this impression from thinking about the English, but the no-subject-needed nature of Japanese sentences made it even more certain in my mind: Mineru considered draconification for herself but decided that the ego death it entailed did not serve her purposes. This is why she knows of it; this is why her more heartfelt argument against it is not merely its forbidden nature but the loss of self that comes with it. What was it like, then, to see Zelda elect this course of action that Mineru had set aside for quite literally selfish reasons?)

I've seen meta before that suspects Mineru was subject to parentification, to the need to be both sister and parent to Rauru--I think that is very likely--my opinion differs from the analysis I've seen in that I do not think that was a role she fulfilled with much warmth or attention. She does not strike me as someone with much capacity for that to begin with, and once she set herself on the frankly dehumanizing path of carrying on her people's legacy I think warmth becomes a distantly tertiary concern. She has already ceased to wholly think of herself as a person, in service to the preservation of her people; she forgets or foregoes her own physical needs; it takes a mental shift, then, to ground herself enough to be present for Rauru. I would be surprised if it occurred to her to do this anywhere near as often as Rauru needed it.

I think Rauru and Sonia coaxing her down to the surface probably helped with all of this detachment a little, but not much. She really does not seem to me like a very present person. I think that if she saw Rauru's own attempts to preserve Zonai culture (teaching the Hylians to use Zonai technology, creating the shrines to encourage Zonai-style thought), it did not supersede or lessen the urgency of her own mission.

I think about the construct and her spirit--and Rauru's shrines for that matter--being converted from their original purpose of maintaining Zonai presence and legacy in Hyrule to being locked away for millennia in order to empower the hero of the future; I think about Mineru's spirit finally passing at the end of the game, Link's arm returned to his natural one instead of Rauru's, the Zonai finally and truly laid to rest. This letting go of trying to preserve one's culture forever, is it a relief or a tragedy or both?

Also I think she suffers from chronic pain and limited mobility, that's just the vibe I get from her, and that makes another reason for her to be interested in housing her spirit in a construct beyond the limits of her body, yes I know the one tablet says she dances, how nice it is that she has some low-pain days but some days I think moving is very hard and tiring for her. My mind will not be changed.

---

[1] though we should note, we are told this in a zonaite-mining cave on the Great Sky Island, which was not only not originally in the sky, it was not originally in the depths, now was it? introducing at least one location where zonaite could once be found on the surface

[toushindai]

a warmth the size of our palms

Link has saved the kingdom once more, and Zelda is herself again. But she notices a persistent grief in her knight, whenever he looks at his right arm...

Post-TOTK, 2.4k, rated G. I will leave it up to your preference whether Zelink is romantic or not but they care about each other deeply.

[ Read on AO3 ]

*

The cries of triumph and relief that greet Zelda and Link’s arrival at Lookout Landing almost bring Zelda to tears. They cheer for her like she’s real royalty—all except for Purah, who foregoes such formality and instead sweeps her and Link both into a crushing hug.

“Oh, thank the goddess. I knew you’d bring her back to us, Linky—hm?” Purah pulls back and takes a good look at Link. “Your arm, it’s… back to normal?”

“Your arm?” Zelda looks at her knight with a sudden sharp sting of concern. She remembers what Ganondorf did to it, but she knows so little of what Link has done since then, and it hadn’t occurred to her to ask—

But she sees at a glance that the question puts Link on the spot. He lifts his right arm and makes a vague gesture before signing, “After what Ganondorf did to me, Rauru gave me his arm. But when…” He waffles over his words. “Before I caught you, he healed it.”

Save for that moment of hesitation, he signs evenly and impassively. Zelda’s brow furrows, just slightly. He glances once at her face, and then turns his gaze away. Zelda’s stomach plunges. She has never seen a clearer sign of his discomfort.

Purah doesn’t notice it. “Caught her? What do you mean, caught her? Where was she, Link?”

Link’s posture becomes even stiffer, and in an instant, Zelda knows: he hasn’t told Purah what she did. Has he told anyone? Or has he carried it sealed in his heart alone? A slow-dawning horror sinks into Zelda’s chest.

But she doesn’t let it show. Instead she breaks into a smile—she feels herself doing it, feels how deliberate it is—and says, “Honestly, Purah, I’m still exhausted, and I can’t even begin to imagine how Link must feel. Is there somewhere quiet where the two of us could rest?”

With a few brusque words, Purah clears out the emergency shelter beneath Lookout Landing for their sake. As the door grinds into place, shutting out the happy bustle of the fort’s inhabitants beginning to realize that the worst of their problems are behind them, Zelda sees Link relax slightly. But not entirely.

“Would you like a cake?” he offers, and Zelda knows that this is how he shows his care. She smiles and nods, and she does not let herself stare at him too much as he sits down in front of the pot and begins to ready his ingredients.

She has plenty else to look at: papers and reports scattered across the tables, maps tacked up on the wall. A “Missing!” poster with her portrait and Link’s. A goddess statue, of course, and she does not feel as much of a guilty, panicked twinge as she used to when she sees it. But as she flips idly through a copy of the Lucky Clover Gazette that tells of a convoluted Yiga plot involving a talking cucco, her attention does keep getting drawn back towards her knight. For a moment, he seems almost at ease; he really does love to cook. But as she watches, he reaches out his right hand in the vague direction of the egg he’d set aside. There is a strange pause, and then she sees him turn his head to look at his arm. His face is expressionless. He leans to the right, picks up the egg, and cracks it into the bowl. He is not as relaxed now as he was before.

“Link…” Zelda says. He looks her way, eyes attentive. Zelda shakes her head minutely. It’s not that she needs something from him. Something in his face pulls closed at that realization, and then she sees his lips press together in the barest hint of a suppressed frown. She comes to sit to his left, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She says, “I left a lot on your shoulders.”

He hesitates, then puts his cooking utensils down so he can sign. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I… can’t, right now. Talk about it, I mean. But it isn’t because of anything you did.” Another pause. He reaches for the bowl, but before he picks it up, he stops. “It’s gotten harder for me again,” he confesses, and Zelda’s heart breaks for him.

“I’m home,” she promises him, and his eyes soften with affection and relief.

The cake he bakes for her is delicious.

*

Mineru’s passing is harder on Zelda than she expected. So she is glad when Riju formulates some excuse that pulls the sages and Purah away to explore the Great Sky Island, leaving Zelda alone with Link. He opens his arms to her and lets her weep for as long as she needs to.

“Thank you,” she says, when at last she can dry her eyes.

Link’s hand hesitates on her arm, and then he signs, “The three of them were like a family to you.”

“They were.” She gives a weak smile. “You can imagine how complicated that felt.”

“I have imagined it,” he answers seriously. And then, “Is there a way up to the roof?”

There is, of course. Zelda leads him up there, to the sand garden. The construct stationed there remembers her and greets her as though perhaps only a month has passed since she last spoke to it. Rauru had said that most of them were created long before he was born. And here they are, persisting long after his death. This one glides quietly away to give them their space, and Link walks towards the edge of the roof to look out across what was once the Garden of Time. Zelda approaches him and stands as silently as he does.

He gazes over the golden island, then looks down at his right hand, opening and closing a fist. Then he cranes his neck back and shades his eyes to look at an island that must be half a kilometer above this one.

“When I woke up,” he says, his hands moving haltingly, “my arm had been replaced.”

She looks at him. He looks down at his hand, running his thumb across his own palm, over his fingers. “It didn’t feel as weird as it should have. That hand responded like it should, I could still sign, I could still fight. It…” But he cuts himself off there, waving away the rest of the thought. “You gave up your body and mind,” he says.

She can see the self-recrimination in the movement of his hands and the set of his shoulders. She says, “I made the choice to do so, of my own free will.”

Link’s brow furrows. He signs, “Understand, it wasn’t bad. Especially once I started understanding the powers of the Zonai. Did you ever see Rauru or Mineru use those?” Zelda nods. “I learned to use them. And then it was like they had always been a part of me. Because they were a part of me. Or, I was…” He trails off once more and lets his hands fall to his sides. Closing his eyes, he inhales deeply of the cool air for a silent, serene minute. Then, “I’m sorry that Mineru left, too.”

The pain squeezes Zelda’s heart again. But she says, “It was her time. I think… she may have lived through those thousands of years, in a way that I didn’t.”

Link glances at her and nods. He must have gotten the same impression.

Zelda thinks about Mineru as she was: thinks of that dark and dusty library/workshop and Mineru’s focus on her work. Mineru had already been working on those constructs, Zelda knows. Mineru had already intended to outlive her body, even before Ganondorf’s treachery. And she had been kind to Zelda, and interested in her, but she had never been warm. Her gaze had always been directed somewhere else, until that moment when Zelda had confessed her plan to her.

“I wish she could have stayed a little longer,” Zelda confesses. “But… I think it’s right for her to move on.”

Link looks down at his hand one more time. Then he nods, silently.

*

The rhythms of a peaceful life welcome them back, billowing them gently through the days like a breeze. They travel around Hyrule together as it heals from the Upheaval, and when they tire, they go home to Hateno. There may be a new home waiting for them outside Tarrey Town, but there is comfort in the familiar, for now.

And things are familiar. Sometimes—as has always been the case since they defeated Calamity Ganon—there are days when Link needs to clear his head. Sometimes he is struck with a strange, wandering restlessness, and he heads out alone and returns when he is ready.

Zelda knows the feeling, she thinks; there are still mornings when she wakes up thinking that she has to go, to do. Bearing the weight of the world is, it turns out, a hard habit to break. Even in the past, despite Sonia’s gentle admonishment, Zelda had not been able to shake the feeling that she needed to be the one to stop Ganondorf’s dark designs against the peace of the newborn Hyrule Kingdom.

(She had not quite been wrong about that, in the end.)

When Link returns one evening, Zelda asks, “Do you still go to spend time with the dragons, when you go out?”

That is what he’s done in past years, he’s told her. He has said that he finds serenity in their beautiful, implacable progression through the skies. When Zelda realized what she had to do, she remembered Link saying that, and truth be told it had brought her some peace.

But now she regrets asking it. A stricken expression shoots across his face before he composes himself, and for several long minutes, he does not speak. He only pulls off his boots, removes his leather armor and chainmail. Takes the hairtie from his hair and ruffles it loose. He wears it a little longer now than he used to.

Not looking at her, he signs, “Do you remember anything at all?”

Zelda swallows and gives a helpless shrug. It isn’t that she remembers. But sometimes, when the breeze comes through the window just so, she… slips. The way her mind works shifts, and she feels an unbounded, wide-open tranquility. And when Link touches her arm to bring her out of it, it doesn’t always work the first time, because sometimes that sliver of his familiar presence is part of it, too.

Link signs, “There was one time, I think I spent three days lying on your forehead, wishing you knew me.” And she opens her mouth to say—what can she say?—but he waves his hand and says, “The dragons don’t bring me peace anymore.”

Zelda says, “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault. And it may have always been selfish of me. They aren’t for me.”

I was, Zelda thinks, but she doesn’t say it aloud.

Again, Link’s hands fall still. He pulls the Purah Pad off his belt, hands it to her, and goes to the kitchen. There, he begins to chop the vegetables he’s brought home. Zelda sees carrots and a pumpkin from the village—but also skyshrooms and a stambulb. She flicks open the Purah Pad’s album and scrolls down to the newest pictures; they are full of golden foliage and clear blue sky.

When the vegetables have all been chopped and added to the pot to sizzle quietly, Link’s hands are left idle once more. He sees that Zelda is waiting for him. Indicating the Purah Pad as if to say you’ve figured this out already, he signs, “I go to the sky islands.”

Zelda nods. She looks down at one of the pictures he took, of a heron picking its way through golden grass. “Are they all this beautiful?”

He wiggles his hand. “Not all of them. There’s this one eyesore above Necluda…”

Zelda has seen it from the ground. “Those smokestacks?”

“It was a forge,” he says. For a moment, there is almost amusement on his face. Then something horrible happens. As Zelda watches, he grits his teeth and screws his eyes shut as though he’s in pain. Very abruptly, he pulls out one of the chairs from the table and sits down.

Zelda starts towards him. “Link, are you all right?”

He waves off her concern with a sharp movement. But his annoyance is for himself, not for her. Hands moving roughly, he says, “It was a forge, and that’s all I’ll ever know about it, and it won’t ever be a forge again.” He grips his right wrist with his left hand, clenching his right hand into a fist. “They’re gone,” he signs faintly.

And Zelda’s grief wells up within her, never far away: Sonia’s loving smile, Rauru’s kind eyes, Mineru’s clever creations. They’re gone echoes in her mind and in the places where they made her life brighter, more expansive. She will never stop missing them.

But Link’s grief, she thinks, is of a different shape. Little by little, he has told her of his adventures across Hyrule after the Upheaval. He has taken her to the Shrines of Light to see the puzzles Rauru and Sonia built and shown her the vehicles Tarrey Town has begun to construct from Zonai devices. Wryly, he tells her that he isn’t as handy with these things as he once was, and his eyes say that he’s joking. But even so, even months later, there are moments when he reaches out for something as if he expects it to come to his hand rather than the other way around. There are moments when he offers to grab her something from upstairs and unthinkingly reaches upwards before realizing he’s going to have to take the stairs. Like any other person. Like any other Hylian must.

Zelda sits down beside Link and reaches for his clenched right hand. Gently, she unfolds his fingers and slips her own between them. She knows the shape of this hand; she knows the calluses on this palm. This is her Link, and she wants to know every part of him. If he aches with loneliness for a people he never really knew—a people he was too late to save, the last remnant of them slipping away from him even as she came back—then she will hold this loneliness with him. Even if he cannot shape it into words.

“Link,” she says, “will you bring me to the sky islands sometime?”

(He doesn’t know it, but Zelda does: Sonia asked this question of Rauru once, long, long ago.)

And Link looks into her face and sees all the understanding she can offer him, and she watches a little of the burden ease from his face. He nods, seriously, and squeezes her hand.

Then he stands to continue making their dinner.

[toushindai]

(totk endgame spoilers)

there is something I've been trying to put into words about how much of the game is spent learning to think like a Zonai. OK. Points:

Look me in the eye and tell me you've never tried to Ascend in another video game after spending a few hours in TOTK. You can't. I don't believe you if you do. I was looking for ascend-able spots in Pokemon the other day. I also saw a pile of just. random materials on the ground and went "what am I supposed to Ultrahand those into." And yes this is standard Tetris Effect nonsense, I'm not claiming it's unique, but in-world, think about Link, a Hylian, learning to rely so completely on these ancient powers. And his access to these powers not being technological a la the Sheikah Slate but being grafted onto his body.

The sheer number of shrines in the "A [Whatever] Device" pattern. Shrines designed very explicitly to teach you "here is the basic function of this Zonai device. Here are some more complex or novel ways to use that same device." I do wonder what purpose these shrines were intended to serve when they were created by Rauru before the Imprisoning War. Did he hope his children/descendants would inherit Zonai magic? Or just that Hyruleans would incorporate Zonai tech into their lives? We do see, for example in the "A King's Duty" tear, Hylians lugging around rockets...

And then there is the skydiving. The way that, at the beginning of the game, yes of course Link is willing to leap after Zelda no questions asked, but he can't catch her. But then you spend dozens of hours exploring the world, navigating the game's verticality. You maybe do the Zonai coming-of-age Diving Ceremonies. You maybe do the labyrinths and dive from the sky to the depths. It seems that these agile dives from high places were meaningful in Zonai culture--and they signified/demonstrated courage, so of course this is something for Link to become proficient in. And become proficient he does, such that at the end of the game he's able to dive and at last catch and save Zelda.

The Zonai are gone, at the end of the game. Rauru and Mineru join Sonia in whatever world beyond there is, and even Link's arm--the arm that allowed him to access this ancient culture, in ways both metaphorical and literal--is returned to normal. If ever Link felt a sense of disconnect, having this arm from another species grafted onto his body, I think he must feel that same sense of disconnect and displacement in having it removed. For a time, he was almost the last embodiment of this culture. And now he isn't anymore.

[toushindai]

unhappier and wickeder than all the rest

Chapter one: Legacy

Three weeks after the arrival of the Gerudo to Hyrule Castle, Rauru’s control over the treaty negotiations begins to slip.

[ x ]

Please see AO3 for more details including more thorough tags and my intended posting schedule! The completed fic will be 25k words and should be fully up by this time next week. Thank you to everyone who's been waiting eagerly for this--I hope you enjoy it and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!!

[toushindai]

You know what they should’ve done if they were really committed to this idea that abandoned mine locations reflect major surface settlement locations. They should’ve put abandoned mines at some of the locations destroyed by the Calamity. Tabantha Abandoned Mine. Shadow Abandoned Mine. I was gonna say Deya Abandoned Mine but the Deya Village Ruins are too wet for that. But my point stands. I just think that would be eerie.

[toushindai]

unhappier and wickeder than all the rest

Chapter two: Disillusionment

No man makes himself a king for the sake of friendship.

[ x ]