For Ganondorf Dragmire, reincarnation doesn't mean rebirth. It means growing fresh skin over a withered core. It means feeding an addiction that doesn't die with age. It means watching Princess Zelda forget him, over… and over… and over. [Multichaptered, angsty, reincarnation!centric Zelgan six-shot]

"The floor tiles, then," the Gerudo king continued. "Tell me about them." Zelda bit her lip. Smirked. She liked a good challenge.

...is strictly forbidden, especially when you're a 13-year-old kitchen boy, and she's the all-grown-up Princess of Hyrule. When you dream of slaying dragons and being knighted and wooing princesses, things like scrubbing out soup pots tend to get in the way. And best friends, too. Best friends tend to do that.

"Interesting, isn't it? The way that history changes depending on who's holding the pen…" Ganondorf turned to peer at her, and she cringed under the weight of his gaze. "Then again," he mused softly, "the truth never has been fit for a romantic mind."

We are shallow, and therefore we are blind. Post-TP.

"Sheikah understand the harshness of the world, and they accommodate for it. You have done nothing but cry for want of your castle. Your castle is gone, Zelda. Your father has been murdered, your castle burned. You cry, Zelda, but these are the truths of the world that only a child would deny." [OoT.]

Cremia is in for a surprise when Romani and Link drag a fir tree home- and accidentally steal a beehive in the process. Cremia/Romani/Link family!fic, (belated) Christmas gift for Norkix.