King Gustaf Kendrick Nohansen

Have faith in your king Have faith in your country

[merchantmelicus]

Dead Man's Bluff | [Azrael, Gustaf, Jasdaë, Zelda]

[jasdae-isleen-deactivated201503]

Jasdaë tried to peer around Az’s shoulder to see the king, but the stupid mask she was wearing blocked a good deal of her vision. She figured she was already entrenched in the shit anyway and already a wanted felon, so she irritably swept the mask back from her face and tossed it aside, then threw a glance back at the crippled king. Maybe showing her face wasn’t the wisest option, but what were they going to do? Charge her with double treason?

The Hylian king looked weak and pale, although perhaps she was comparing him to the imposing stature and bearing of her own king. It was hardly a fair contrast.

“Hurry up and talk,” she said to Az sharply. “I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

[aclockworkprincess]

From the corner of her eye, Zelda saw a mask go flying aside and assumed the girl accomplice had removed hers. She glanced to her husband, pacing like a caged animal with his hand on his sword, eyes darting between herself and the girl agitatedly. She wished she could say something to tell him she wasn’t really in any danger, although the claws pricking her skin and the gun at her head might have said otherwise.

The barrel pressed more tightly against her and she winced a little in spite of herself. She heard the girl whisper something to Az but she still couldn’t catch the words.

Her father seemed marvelously unaffected, although she expected nothing less. She decided not to saying anything, because she doubted he wanted to hear anything she had to say.

[merchantmelicus]

A mask went flying and Azrael caught sight of Jasdaë’s face, glistening with sweat and flyaway red curls.  The words he had planned for the king were clear in his mind; he only had to start speaking to know they would flow from him as he had rehearsed.

“Citizens of New Hyrule,” Azrael bellowed across the ballroom, turning his gaze upon the terrified civilians around him.  His fangs were sharp against his lips, but he urged his mouth to work around them.  These were words he did not want to be forgotten.  “King Gustaf has persecuted our good people and ransacked our glorious city for the sake of eradicating non-humans.

“He has sacrificed the lives of innocents – men, women, and children who did not deserve to die simply for being what they are.  Your king was the one who blasted the bridges between the districts, who sent people to death and tore families apart when he burnt their homes.

“Do you think he cares for you?” he asked, his voice rising.  “Do you think that he truly massacres so called ‘non-humans’ for your sake?  Your king cares not for you!  ‘Have faith in your king, have faith in your country’, he says.  To hell with that!  I will not serve a false king!  Do not serve a false king!

“Look at him!” roared Azrael, glaring straight at Gustaf as he yelled.  There was a dampness in Azrael’s eyes that he had not planned for; he pushed it back.  “Look at how he watches his only daughter, his only living heir to his throne, with such coldness, such passivity.  He doesn’t care about his own flesh and blood – why should you think he cares about any of you?”

There was a tightness in Azrael’s chest as he panted angrily, waiting for a reaction from the king.  The crowd buzzed with murmurs and whispers, reactions to Azrael’s words.  Your move, rìgh.

[rexvocem-blog]

The man’s voice was loud, Gustaf thought, louder than he’d anticipated a voice could be coming from a man so thin.  It was powerful however, and for a moment Gustaf’s blood ran cold.

But then he laughed.

“You’ve come to the wrong place if you’re expecting to get a rise out of me, son,” he replied coolly, eyeing the masked man and his Gerudo accomplice warily.  There was a tantalizing quality to his pet, and Gustaf couldn’t help but feel as if her pretty young face was familiar.  “Look at how your own hands are drawing blood from my daughter.  Who is the monster here, boy?

“Kill them both,” Gustaf commanded, his gaze cold as it rested on the man in black.

“Sire?” the nearest knight replied, his voice tinged with confusion.  “The princess…”

“Did I stutter, Sir Rodrick?” Gustaf retorted.  “Kill them both, you miserable sods.  And take me back to my chambers.  I no longer have any reason to bear witness to such folly.”

[merchantmelicus]

Dead Man's Bluff | [Azrael, Gustaf, Jasdaë, Zelda]

[jasdae-isleen-deactivated201503]

Jasdaë noticed Anax in the group of knights and also noticed he was glaring daggers into her, which prompted her to divert her gaze to the other side of the room. Best to avoid that mess for now.

Civil conversation, Az said and she had to fight not to roll her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure how it could get and less civil, honestly.

“I’m not trying to second guess you, but— HEY HEY HEY WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU? Stay fucking still. You little shit.” The knight stepped back in line and Jasdaë continued, “But we need a plan B in case King Chucklefuck decides he wants to call our little bluff.”

[aclockworkprincess]

Zelda nearly laughed at Az’s word in her ear, but she thought that might come across as disingenuous to her hostage role. So she lowered her voice and kept her face smooth and passive. “If you didn’t want me involved,” Zelda said coolly, “It could have been easily avoided by not pointing a gun at me. Although your ‘blame the hostage’ technique is interesting, I’m sure it’ll be a hit with my father. Be sure to bring that up.”

[merchantmelicus]

A low growl left his throat, a lungful of frustrations in one sound.  “Almost as effective as ‘blame the counterpart you so willingly invited into your bed’, I’m sure,” he muttered under his breath.

The crowd parted as the knight who had scurried off returned with the king.  He looked about as well as Azrael had expected him to; hunched in the wheelchair, he was somehow smaller and less intimidating.

There was ice in his eyes however, ice that set Azrael on edge.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight, your majesty,” Azrael drawled, tilting his head.  “Almost didn’t think you’d be showing your face here.  Certainly took your time getting yourself down all those bleeding stairs.”

[rexvocem-blog]

The masquerade was in a chaotic state of disarray.  The party guests had paused in their attempts to flee, all gazing in shocked horror at where the masked man and woman stood in the centre of the ballroom.  Zelda stood in the masked man’s grasp, and even from this distance Gustaf could see claws digging into his daughter’s arm, teeth emerging from underneath the man’s lips.

Non-humans, he thought to himself.  Naturally.  I suppose I should have foreseen this.

Gustaf sat idly in his chair as his attendants wheeled him hesitantly closer, the knight who had been sent for him standing awkwardly at his side.  “Well then, what do we have here?” he mused, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair as he regarded the scene.

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

How many aftermaths will there be? (Din, Gustaf)

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit, partially at the comment about her looking like hell and partially b/c the wishful thinking that someday they’d have a conversation that won’t end negatively.

"I went to the west, met my biological parents. I went to go help my brother—he’s a doctor, and foolish enough to run towards danger. Wasn’t much help in the end. I looked worse before I went to Holly’s and got a shower—er, the Matron in the Hall of Orphans. This is the ‘cleaned up and exhausted’ version of myself." She held out her hands, as if she was presenting herself, but didn’t bother even straightening up from her reclined position.

"The explosion took out a chunk of the west, closest to the bridges." She said flatly, calmly. "I imagine it’d be same in the southern portion. I imagine the damage would be just as severe in the county. I’m not sure how the Times is going to paint this, but there’s no going back now."

She paused for a moment before awkwardly chuckling. “Sorry, sorry. We’re supposed to be speaking positively. In my defense, we’re facing negative times.” She closed her eyes, laying her head on the arm of the chair.

"My parents looked so dreadfully normal and pitiful. I can’t imagine coming from such plain looking people."

[rexvocem-blog]

Gustaf regarded his hands, scratching idly at his callouses.  “It’s funny,” he remarked, though it wasn’t at all.  “I forget sometimes that you were just an ordinary little girl once, that you had a family.  True, you have your sisters, but… well, it’s easy to forget that you have blood relatives too, sometimes.”

The mention of explosions set his mouth into a stern line.  “Ah,” was all he could say at first.  “I… I had anticipated the damage.  It was to be expected, with the number of charges to be laid on the bridges.”  Logical, expected.  Numbers and equations, probabilities and outcomes.

But this was not Victoria, who thrived off of numbers.  This was Din, and numbers meant little when she had seen the lives taken by the bombs.  Lives that Gustaf had failed to consider in his calculations.  Lives that would forever be engrained in the creases in his palms, blood he couldn’t wash off.

But then, what were a few more lives to the king who evidently did not care?

“Negative times, indeed,” Gustaf agreed with a nod of his head.

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

How many aftermaths will there be? (Din, Gustaf)

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

The man came out again and opened the door for her, and she wasted no time walking in and the door was shut behind her. She let out a sigh, remembering exactly what their last conversation was about, but he hadn’t turned her away. She was right about the thought of him not denying any of her silly whims.

"I’m sorry for waking you up, Gustaf." She said, raking a hand through her hair. She looked around the room, finally looking at him in his chair. "Were you…sleeping at your desk?" She asked, walking over to a sofa and sitting down at it.

"Truthfully, I was hoping to hide with you for a bit, I haven’t slept yet, and too much has been happening. Can’t really wind down at all." She kicked off her shoes and put her feet up, clearly making herself at home.

She looked at him seriously, before looking almost apologetic. “You must be a glutton for punishment, letting me come around even though we continue to heavily disagree. I don’t understand it.” She pulled one of her curls straight, looking away from him as she pretended to be interested in her hair.

[rexvocem-blog]

“Mm,” Gustaf made a noise in agreement as he regarded his desk.  Could it be called a desk when the desk part of the furniture was entirely concealed with mountains of paperwork?  “Easier than clambering into bed.”

He wheeled himself over towards the sofa as she took a seat in it, regarding her weary and wan countenance.  "Well, don’t be so secretive… You look like hell, at least tell me why.  What’s wrong?  Did something happen?”  A foolish question, he thought to himself.  Of course something had happened – something always happened.

Gustaf sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily.  “Call it wishful thinking – I keep managing to convince myself that one day we won’t have a conversation that ends negatively,” he commented dryly.

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

How many aftermaths will there be? (Din, Gustaf)

 She hadn’t received the answer she wanted, but trusted that Jasdae might be able to change Azraels’ mind. They seemed close, after all. You can’t make hysterical jokes about the others injured condition and be strangers. A part of her knew that Azrael would come around eventually. This was too important for him not too.

Read More

[rexvocem-blog]

The move from the hospital room to the king’s quarters had been a slow transition, but finally Gustaf found himself back in his study.  Of course, there was the added bulk of a wheeled chair to his form now.  It felt strange, and would certainly take some getting used to.  He tended to stay by his desk most of the time, not really anticipating the strain on his shoulders whenever he had to move the damned thing about the room.

Navigating was another thing; where Gustaf had spent the last fifty-odd years using his feet to get him around, he now relied on twisting and pushing this blasted chair.  Needless to say, he was far from capable with it at the moment.  He’d knocked into every corner in his quarters and succeeded in shattering several vases that had been balanced perilously on the edges of shelves and tables.  His assistants had had to clean up more broken glass recently than ever before, Gustaf was certain.

Having not found the motivation to wheel himself to his bed only to struggle to climb into it, Gustaf had fallen asleep at his desk, slumped uncomfortably against the metal chair.  He awoke with a start at a sharp knock at his door, one of his attendants slipping inside.

“Your majesty, I-” the young man began before pausing and flushing at the king’s current state of undress.  “My apologies, I had thought - your lantern was lit, I should not have assumed…”

Gustaf rolled his eyes, tossing the book that had been left open on his lap onto his desk.  “Quit your stammering, fool,” he growled irritably.  “My lack of trousers stems from a lack of a leg to wear them with.  Stop acting as if you’ve walked in on something scandalous.  What do you want?”  It couldn’t be time for Gustaf to rise yet; the sun wasn’t even out, though he could hear songbirds already singing.

“R-right, my apologies, again,” the attendant blurted.  “The Oracle Din has requested an audience with you.”

Gustaf frowned.  “At this hour?  What could she possibly…” he trailed off, noticing the young man’s troubled expression.  “What on earth is wrong with you, boy?”

“N-nothing, your majesty.”

Gustaf rolled his eyes again, dismissing the attendant with a wave of his hand.  “Let her in, you fool.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

She stretched a bit, face unreadable before she slipped out of bed and went to her clothes. It was a bit harder to put them back on than taking them off, but that was fine.

"I feel like you might look down at me for how I feel about them, the nonhumans, the Gerudo. I know you’ve brought it up before." She began, turned away from him.

"I could have been easily abandoned in the county. Or sent there because of how I look. I realized at a young age that my fate would have been grim because of the fact that I look Gerudo. Becoming an Oracle was a surprise, but it doesn’t erase how I grew up, as much as Victoria has tried to do her best to do so." She turned now to him, crossing her arms.

"You might not like them, you might not even consider them deserving of anything, but they’re our people too. The county is still New Hyrule, they’re supposed to be our responsibility too.” She put a hand on her chest as she spoke before dropping both to her sides.

"That’s…all I’ve really got to say. With your leave, your highness." She said, bowing to him.

[rexvocem-blog]

Her words solidified the fears Gustaf had attempted to bury, and they came back to haunt him as the smoke clouded his vision.  As much as he hated to admit it, Din had a point, one that he had never been confronted with before.

They’re our people too.

Frustration brewed in his chest where the tobacco smoke filled him, and Gustaf exhaled his emotions angrily.  Just who was he angry at, however?  Was he angry at Din, for questioning his judgment, her king’s judgment?  Perhaps he was angry at himself for never considering her viewpoint before.

He found the weight of the impossibility of it all resting on his shoulders suddenly.  He couldn’t take back the orders he had made.  There was nothing to be done but to see it through.  No wonder she can hardly look at me.

“Good day, Din.  Until we meet again.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

Her face fell and she turned away from him, chewing on her lip. He had every intent to kill them. For doing nothing than existing. She closed her eyes, holding in the urge to grab her things and run back to her room. She had asked for this. She had to deal with the knowledge of what actually happened, before it happened. She wasn’t a passive onlooker anymore.

But she couldn’t do anything either, which hurt badly. She brought a hand up to rub her face, still not entirely sure what to say, and not entirely trusting herself not to say something that could get her in trouble.

But she knew she had to say something, even if was futile. It was already decided, wasn’t it? “They’re all going to be killed, just for the crimes of a few?” She whispered, shaking her head. She felt her resolve shake, but she would not cry for the county and it’s people. Not in front of Gustaf.

[rexvocem-blog]

Something about the way Din’s expression changed so subtly sent a chill down Gustaf’s spine.  This was new for him.  He’d never conversed with someone of his political plans only to receive such a reaction as this.  Victoria’s responses ranged from icy indifference towards the lives of Gustaf’s subjects to tumultuous wrath that he hardly expected could come from such a small, unassuming woman.  Din’s face… she almost looked hurt.

No, not almost.  She was hurt.  Something stirred within him then, and he was unsure of what to describe it as.  It wasn’t pity for the non-humans, surely… but it wasn’t far off.

Gustaf realized then that it was the fear that maybe he had made the wrong decision.  Clamping his teeth down hard on the worn wooden texture of his pipe, his face creased into a frown.  He squashed the feeling with acrid smoke, and his resolve sharpened as his lungs choked on it.

“As the king, I have to consider what is in the best interests of the kingdom I govern,” Gustaf stated sharply.  Exhaling a lungful of frustrations, he continued, “Forgiveness of the county in this situation would not benefit the kingdom.  There is too much bad blood, too much anarchy.  It is a situation the crown can no longer control, so it must be ousted before it escalates.  This is the best decision.”  But was it?  Gustaf could only hope so.

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on a fist. The court mask was back, and she was obviously thinking of a response. She was silent for a bit before speaking.

"It was inexcusable. I beg your pardon but as corrupt as some of the higher members of the church can be, there are children who depend on the orphanage there— where they would be without it is incredibly worse. However.." She shook her head slowly. "If the bridges are removed, we’ve doomed everyone on that island." Her chest ached a bit and she felt weariness hit her all at once.

"Unless you intend to drop supplies over the island? Or do you intend them all to starve to death?" She spoke, turning towards him with an intense stare.

[rexvocem-blog]

Her words were harsh, and Gustaf stopped for a moment.  Perhaps despite acknowledging Din as a grown woman, he’d anticipated her words to be those of a naïve little girl still; the comments she made were far from naïve, and for a moment he wondered if she felt so strongly – so negatively – about him as well.

Din’s expression was too intense.  He would not allow himself to be swayed in this decision.  Turning away, Gustaf took the pipe from his mouth and turned it in his fingers.  “The inhabitants of the island will survive for a time, I imagine,” he said slowly.  “They’re already plagued by famine and anarchy, I doubt this will make too much of a difference in their chaotic lives.  But, without the exports normally supplied to them through the Western and Southern Districts, they will eventually run out of resources… in answer to your question, yes.  I do intend to starve them.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

She turned toward him, propping her head up with an arm. This wasn’t so bad—it certainly was the easiest way to gain things. There was no threats or subversion, she only had to take her dress off. There were far worse fates, she knew.

She couldn’t help but smile like a silly girl at the thought of a new house—a brand new house. “Well, thank you. I’m glad I’ll be getting away from the ghosts in the church.” And avoid being one of them, but she didn’t add that thought. “I’ll have to have a party, it’s only right.” She mused, imagining who she’d invite. Shad, her brother, perhaps other childhood friends.

Her cheery attitude dried up like water in the desert when he mentioned the explosion. He was turned away from her, but she still searched his face. “Explosions? From the county?” She asked, keeping her voice level. She brought up another hand to rake a hand through her loose hair.

[rexvocem-blog]

The girlish, insouciant smile that crossed her face was delightful; more emotion in one expression than the Voice had ever shown him in the years Gustaf had known her.  He almost regretted the words he had uttered to quell Din’s cheery disposition, but they needed to be said, of course.  She’d wanted to be involved, and the price of involvement was the knowledge of the kingdom’s darker inner workings.

“That’s what I said,” Gustaf agreed, taking a long drag from his pipe in the hopes of avoiding any following question.  When Din’s silence extended, he continued.  “The attack on the church was inexcusable.  My council and I agree this is the best decision in order to limit future attacks.  In addition to that… it keeps the people safe from any remaining Gerudo on the island.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

She put a hand on her hip, smiling back at him. Perhaps smiling a little too coyly. She reached behind her, unzipping the dress as she walked forward and out of it, leaving it behind on the floor.

She climbed up onto the hospital bed, being extra careful she didn’t climb on anything that would hurt the King.

"No explanations needed, your highness." She said quietly, putting a hand on the side of his face as she leaned in to kiss him.

[rexvocem-blog]

Some thirty-odd minutes later, Din lay next to Gustaf in his hospital bed, idly chewing her lip whilst Gustaf chewed the pipe he balanced between his teeth.  He’d grown to enjoy these little meetings of theirs, and it was nice to relive an experience that had been recent for him.  His encounters with the Oracle didn’t feel strained in his new status as a lame man.

“I trust you’ll enjoy the house I’ll have prepared for you,” he mused quietly around his pipe.  “It’s quite new, only recently built; you’ll be the first owner, no ghosts to deal with or odd smells to try and scrub out.”

He shifted in his seat, careful not to look at her.  “I’m afraid you won’t be able to move in today, however.  You should likely take cover, and expect to hear explosions coming from the county sometime this evening.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

Din smiled at the compliments, trying to take the compliments with grace. What happened next of course, cleared her face of the smile and left her looking dumbfounded. She blinked a few times, turning over the phrase a few times in her mind.

I do believe the time has come to find her successor, and I am set in my beliefs that I am looking at my primary candidate.

If it wasn’t for the fact she knew full well that she was the only one in the room, she might have turned and looked to see if someone came in behind her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had planned for this—that this was what she wanted, she might have played it off.

When it finally sunk in she couldn’t help but smile widely. It was genuine— she was still too unbalanced by the decision to concentrate on the court mask. “It’s an honor, your majesty! I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.”

She bowed, a lot deeper than she intended before straightening up and thinking. “I..have a request though, your highness, if it’s within my right to ask for it. As much as I enjoy living at the church.” She fought to keep that from sounding sarcastic, and succeeded for the most part. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to live outside of it. I suppose what I’m asking is permission to live outside of the church, in the North District.”

She quickly backed it up. “It wouldn’t change any of my duties in the church, it’d only mean I’d have to wake up a bit earlier.” She left out the fact that she believed if she stayed, she’d eventually wind up dead. If he didn’t already guess that was a potential outcome, there was no point bringing it up. She’d already succeeded in beginning to remove Victoria from her position.

[rexvocem-blog]

Her reaction pleased Gustaf greatly; her stiff composure cracked and he was reminded of just how different Din was to Victoria.  Where his usual sociopathic mistress was cold and unfeeling, Din felt so deeply… it was new to Gustaf, but nevertheless he enjoyed it.

His lips curled into a grin at her request.  Though her emotions were so unguarded, Din remained an intelligent woman.  Gustaf chuckled, stroking his beard.  “You know you’re welcome to whatever you desire, Din,” he replied.  “But surely I don’t have to explain to you that nothing comes without a price.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

"Ives is only loyal to you." Din said without a second thought, before frowning slightly. "But if she can find even the smallest weakness, she’ll exploit it." She said bitterly, thinking of Shad and Haeyin. Ives had to have someone like that too, someone he cared about. It occurred to her that him going to speak to Victoria privately could have ended the same—with the thinly veiled threats to loved ones. She kept that at the back of her mind, she’d ask him directly later.

She tilted her head slightly. “I’ve no reason to lie to you, your majesty. And I can identify her errors because she doesn’t scare me anymore.” It seemed almost childish to admit she was afraid of the woman, but the cold look in Dins’ eyes confirmed its’ truth. “When you stop fearing someone, they no longer hold that power of you. All she has left is to make thinly veiled threats about hurting my loved ones.” She gave him a quizzical look when he trailed off at ‘I wonder’, and waited for him to complete the thought.

[rexvocem-blog]

“A fair point,” Gustaf shrugged his shoulders.  It was both a blessing and a curse, Ives’ loyalty to him.  As Din continued, he found himself greatly pleased by her fervent demeanour, as he so often was.  There was a fiery wrath to the Oracle that was both frightening and exciting.

Something to be cherished and also contained.

“You’re a wise young woman, Din,” Gustaf returned, his voice gentle.  “I must admit, it surprises me that someone your age can be so knowledgable.  Frankly, it’s something my current cabinet seems to be lacking.  I could use more people like you working in my favour.”

Eyeing her expression carefully, he continued.  “Our dear mutual friend has overstayed her welcome.  I do believe the time has come to find her successor, and I am set in my beliefs that I am looking at my primary candidate.”

[rexvocem-blog]

UC bridges falling down, falling down, falling down UC bridges falling down

The order had fallen on a team of fifteen Sheikah warriors, masked and loyal to the crown. Each one carried a sack of explosions--a small amount seemingly, but as the fifteen worked tirelessly over the underside of the three bridges it was clear that rigged up it would be more than enough.

They were on a strict deadline-- the explosions had to be set off at midnight. None of them wanted to know the punishment for being late. If the King was prepared to isolate the former 'Western District', he would be within his power to execute them for messing this up as well.

It had been advantageous to use the Sheikah, because even if one of them were seen, it wasn't question as more than just 'odd' that one had made itself visible.

They had finished in record time, disappearing into the western district save for three, who would manually trigger the explosions.

At ten minutes till midnight--ahead of schedule, the first explosion went off, followed by two others. Then three in a wave that seemed to shake the islands even as it blew apart the three bridges.

By the third set of explosions, pieces of the bridge that hadn't been blown apart began falling, debris dropping into the water below.

Screaming from people on either side began about halfway through as it began to dawn on the citizens of the Undesirable county what this meant. What it meant to lose their only connection to the rest of New Hyrule. Of the supply line they were losing. Of family that had been on the other side, deep in the southern district, that they were being separated from.

With the chaos of the last explosion, which sent the rest of the bridge into the deep sea, the Sheikah who were ordered to do the deed seemed to disappear into the night, leaving the wreckage behind.

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

This was it—if ever there was a Victoria toppling moment, it had to be this one. It felt almost loaded, but she knew it was it. She took a deep breath, losing most of her formality as she began talking, a hand at her hip.

"I have no doubt Victoria was trying to ‘cut her loses’ by having us all die in one swoop. We have been at odds for some time now, and I’m sure the situation was too good for her to turn down. With all of us gone, she’d be in power—or rather Zelda would, but I have no doubt she’d find a way to manipulate her." She felt bad for speaking low of Zelda, but it was true. Victoria would find a way to either put the princess on the sidelines or worse.

"For Goddesses sakes, given her position the correct thing to do would to be to either cage the beast, or provide cover for you to be taken out. Instead she sealed the room, making it impossible for help to come to us. If it wasn’t for sheer luck, we wouldn’t have survived. And even then…" She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

[rexvocem-blog]

Gustaf’s brow creased into a frown at Din’s words.  He had been hoping for affirmations, but not of this sort; if anything, Din had merely proven that the Voice was no longer a woman Gustaf could trust.  He wondered if it had been a poor decision on his part trusting her at all.

“I see… this is unsettling,” he responded finally.  “I do agree with you, however.  My daughter is naïve, and if the Voice is as malicious as you suggest than I do not doubt that she would attempt to manipulate my weak-minded heir.  But what of Ives?  Do you think him so easily manipulated by her, as well?  I would like to think he is stronger than that, but she has indeed pulled the wool over my eyes… it would be foolish to assume another could be stronger when I have proven myself weaker.

“I value your honesty with me, Din,” Gustaf continued, gesturing to the Oracle.  “It is good for me to know that, while the Voice appears untrustworthy, I am at least able to find some sort of middle ground with you.  I… It would appear that where the Voice has committed a rather serious miscarriage of judgment, you are capable of identifying her errors and offering a means of correcting them.  I wonder…”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

"Oh, they are." Din spoke, clasping her hands together again. "While the story is muddled—I intentionally did so— it boils down to those guessing that Ganondorf summoned a monster, rather than became one. I thought this would be the best decision to keep hysteria from happening. There’s already a great amount of ignorance that many of the common folk have for the nonhumans and their ways— the last thing we need is it to be considered that the Gerudo can all turn into monsters when pressed." She spoke confidently, hoping to convey that what she chose to do made sense. Of course, she knew deep down there was only one Gerudo able to transform, but it was best if that stayed between the princess and herself.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her jaw clenched at the topic of Victoria being brought up. “I must ask, your highness, what your opinion on recent events are, before I say something that could frankly be perceived as exceptionally disrespectful about her.” She spoke in stiff formality, looking fiercely at the King. She’d wait before she’d say anything that might get her tossed in prison.

[rexvocem-blog]

Stroking at his chin, Gustaf nodded in response.  Personally he would have disclosed Ganondorf’s true nature, but Din’s sentimentality to the Gerudo was probably more appropriate in this scenario.

What proof did she have that the Gerudo couldn’t turn into monsters? Ganondorf showed no other prowess in magic, else he might have alleviated the drought Gustaf had ordered sooner.  Perhaps it was a skill every Gerudo possessed.  Perhaps his original classification of the Gerudo as “non-human” was too kind.

At Din’s immediate defensive response, Gustaf laughed loudly.  His ribs ached with the exertion, and he quieted eventually.  “Wise words, Din,” he replied smoothly.  “Let us say that my opinion is… wavering at the moment.  I must take into account the Voice’s actions during that frightful situation, and unfortunately they lead me to believe that she was not operating under our best interests, but her own.  Frankly, Din, it worries me.  I wonder if you have anything to say on the matter.  I assure you that there is no right or wrong answer… I am not seeking evidence to use against you, but rather against her.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

She set her jaw, trying not to grimace at the memory. “I did the only things I knew how to do, your highness. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough to..” She brought up a hand, ignoring formalities to rake it through her hair. “Save your leg. I made the decision that your life was more important.”

It felt terribly awkward to speak about it, and she tried to keep her voice as level as possible, despite the fact it wavered a bit. When he asked about Ganondorf she almost wished there was somewhere to sit. She dropped her hands back down to her sides, slipping back into the formal tone.

"Ganondorf went from a guarded room into a hospital to a prison cell, where he remains waiting for a final decision on his fate. That’s about as much as I know at this point. Everyone has been waiting for you to recover, your highness." As much as the man could, without a leg. "I expect you’ll be getting a replacement of sorts?" She suggested, still not entirely sure how to make conversation with the man. It felt like she always had to be formal, even in situations that seemed informal by default.

[rexvocem-blog]

Gustaf only nodded slowly, attempting to sit up a little.  How undignified it was to speak to one of his inferiors slouched and contorted in a makeshift bed.  “The gesture is appreciated nonetheless, Din,” he assured her begrudgingly, though beneath his hatred for his new status as the lame king there was a true gratitude for sparing his life.

There was something endearing about her frustrations with her own awkwardness, and Gustaf couldn’t help but smile slightly at Din’s sudden break in her poised performance.  As she explained the situation with Ganondorf, he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“See to it that our guards remain on high alert, though I doubt word of the monstrosity of a king we keep in our cells has stayed within that treaty room,” Gustaf noted.  “I would like to keep casualties to a minimum – unless you think they might work in our favour.  But enough idle chit-chat, I was hoping to discuss Vi… our dear friend the Voice’s recent behaviour.”

[aclockworkoracle-blog1]

No longer 'standing' for it [Din, Gustaf]

The occasional headache she had developed since the fight had lessened at least, letting her sleep a bit more peacefully. She started writing down her dreams, just in case they weren’t dreams but memories of another life.

There was a knock on her door, and she sighed slightly, leaning back in her desk chair. “One moment.”

Whoever it is knocked again, clearly in a hurry. Din grimaced down at the book, pushing it back as she got out of the chair. “Yes, yes. I’m coming.” Din tried her best not to sound irritated, but she was sure it was written on her features when she opened the door.

It wasn’t anyone she knew, but considering the armor she figured it had to have been one of the remaining knights.

"His highness summons you, your Grace. I’m here to escort you to the hospital." He spoke politely enough, moving out of the way so she could exit her room.

She couldn’t help but look over to Desmonds’ room, wondering where he was—this was his job, wasn’t it? But no, Desmond was still very busy. This young man would have to do for now.

"Alright, lead the way." She spoke, following him as he walked ahead, trying not to go too fast.

While she walked she straightened her hair, trying not to sigh slightly. She had anticipated this summons for most of the week—after all she’d saved his life. She’d also ordered the arrest of the Voice. She wasn’t sure whether she’d be thanked or punished, or both.

Finally the knight stopped in front of a door, and judging by the knights stationed outside it was obvious the King was behind the door.

The knight who had escorted her went through the door and announced her before backing out and letting her through, shutting the door behind her.

She studied the King, trying not to look down at the lack of a leg. “You summoned me, your highness?” She spoke calmly, setting her hands against her stomach.

[rexvocem-blog]

The healing process demanded restricted movement and increased bed rest, which irked Gustaf greatly.  The injury that had arisen from Ganondorf’s strike had been ill-timed; Gustaf was only too aware of the peaking unrest in the streets, and now was not the time to be bed-ridden as he awaited for a prosthetic to be made for him.

He had nightmares at times, where he relived his encounter with the beast.  It was strange enough to feel the constant illusion of having a left leg, stranger still to experience the pain of its removal all over again.  In the haze of panic and hysteria that had been Ganondorf’s transformation, Gustaf vaguely remembered two things; how Din had saved his life and ended Ganondorf’s irate rampage, and how the Voice had vanished only to seal them within.

As the Voice had been arrested, Gustaf was unable to speak to her momentarily – rather, he was unsure of what to say to her exactly.  What did one say to a woman who had left them all to perish in the beast’s wake?  For now, he would speak with Din, the one whom he begrudgingly owed his life to.

She entered calmly and politely, seeming distant as she stood before him poised and professional.  Her fleeting glance at his stump did not escape his notice.  “Yes, thank you for arriving so promptly, Din,” Gustaf greeted her slowly, turning to face her.  “It is my understand you, ah… assisted me during my time of need.”  And somehow managed to halt a beast in its tracks.  How did you manage that, I wonder?  But there was a time and place for idle threats, and Gustaf needed to pace himself.

“I trust Ganondorf has been taken care of, following that little scene in the treaty room.”