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Endgame	By : RyuaAlba Category: Zelda > General Views: 26665 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda, or any of the characters or regions or names associated with it. I make no money from this fanfiction.

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Outside the barrier, Zelda watched on in horror. She had no art that could pierce Ganondorf's enchantments, meaning that the two of them were on their own. It wasn't that she didn't have confidence in Link, the young man had clearly proven his abilities, many times over, and his courage of course, was beyond reproach. The problem was that someone as honorable as Link could have no idea of the depths Ganondorf could sink to in tormenting those under his power. And power he had in abundance.

Link was afraid. Of course he was, he was plenty afraid. Ganondorf had slaughtered Midna, and he was surprised at how vulnerable it made him feel. He'd gotten used to her wicked laughter, her reassuring presence whether she was hovering invisible at his side or perched protectively on his back. He was afraid for Zelda, outside the barrier with Epona. He knew she'd be focused on the battle, and he worried what could come at them from behind. He was afraid of what would happen if he lost, to Zelda, to his friends, to the rest of the world, to the Twilit denizens who were counting on him, and he wasn't even sure he could help them without Midna's help. But while he felt terror just as easily as any sane, sentient being, it never froze him, never weakened him. His courage drove him forwards, through the fear, making him fight at his best when the stakes were highest and the odds the lowest.

And facing off against Dark Lord Ganondorf was the literal embodiment of what he was best at. His foe was three times his size, had twice his reach, was fully armored from top to bottom, and had already survived what should have been a mortal wound without any apparent weakening or pain; the perfect embodiment of raw, dark power. And regardless of all of those reasons Ganondorf should win, Link fought on anyways. While his armor was no more than a chainmail tunic, he trusted his shield to block anything he put it in the way of, knew his sword could parry any blow without fear of damage. And for all of Ganondorf's overwhelming power... Link was much faster.

The Dark Lord snarled as Link dodged right under another crushing blow, darting in to slice across his thigh where the armor didn't quite cover, then dove out of the way of the retaliating backhand blow. Link could feel the wind from the missed strike whip past his ear, and then he was out of range again, rolling to his feet, sword raised and ready for another strike. The only problem was that he'd already inflicted a dozen such blows, and nothing seemed to faze him. And while his spirits were still up, he knew eventually he'd slow down too much, and those deadly, Triforce-enhanced blows would take their toll rather quickly.

Just as he thought it, Ganondorf lunged forwards with a vicious overhand strike, and Link brought his sword up to parry. The sheer weight of his opponent bent him backwards, the metal of their swords shrieking as Link pressed him back, every muscle straining with the effort. More through sheer stubbornness than anything else, he forced Ganondorf's sword back and leapt forwards to strike while he was unbalanced. Unfortunately, he twisted even as Link's sword descended, and the strike glanced off his shoulder plate, scoring the paint but doing little else. His heavy left gauntlet slammed into Link's side, sending him flying to the side. Link hit the ground hard, the Master Sword skittering off through the dirt, the breath knocked out of him as he landed on his shield's edge. He heard the whistle of the Sword of Sages slicing down through the air towards him and he rolled, barely bringing his shield up in time.

A spasm of pain lanced through his right shoulder, his arm collapsing and the shield digging into his thigh. He twisted to the side, the sword sliding down off his shield, carving a gouge through the engraved Triforce before digging deep into the ground. Still fighting for breath, Link rolled away, scrabbling after his sword. He barely got it into his hand before Ganondorf's foot caught him in the back, sending him sprawling.

He determinedly kept a grip on his sword this time, flipping over determinedly and batting the next blow to the side, leaping up to his feet and forcing a good, deep breath into his lungs. His leg hurt from the bruise his own shield had left, and the shield itself was sagging lower than he'd like, his shoulder aching like he'd pulled something with that last, off balance block. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he didn't at all like the predatory, pleased sneer on Ganondorf's face as he strode forwards. He must be showing the pain more than he thought.

Ganondorf didn't let up, driving him harder than ever now that he sensed weakness in his opponent. Link was constantly on the defensive now, parrying, relying less and less on his shield as it pulled at his shoulder. Finally, summoning a burst of speed, he lunged forwards, sword grazing up along Ganondorf's cheek. He let out a bellow, more of rage than pain, and stumbled backwards, free hand coming up to his cheek, glaring down at him.

Link took the few moments it bought him to unstrap his shield, dropping it with a groan of relief to the dust, working his right arm. He was more vulnerable without it, but at least he could move properly again. He darted forward, determined and fast, sending Ganondorf back on the defensive. Dark red blood streaked surprisingly bright on the dark green skin, and the Dark Lord attacked back, made more vicious by the slice.

Neither Zelda or Epona made a sound, not wanting to distract him, although the horse shifted uneasily under Zelda's tight grip on her reins. Watching Link's triumphant first blood filled her with hope, but her spirits plummeted moments later as the Hylian shield dropped to the ground, its proud crest riven through with sword damage. Seeing it there filled her with dread she couldn't properly understand, dread unalleviated by Link's renewed energy.

Their swords clanged echoingly across the open moor, the sound distorted and amplified strangely by the magical barrier surrounding the battlefield. Link's attacks were coming quickly, almost a tinge of desperation in his movements. Without the shield, Ganondorf's larger sword, greater power, and greater weight would be a much greater advantage, so Link would have to finish the fight quickly, before his greater speed started to lag again, since he'd now be effectively defenseless against the crushingly powerful blows if they ever landed.

Despite the desperateness of the situation, the aching in his leg and shoulder, he couldn't help but admire the beauty, the mechanics of the fight. They were excellently matched, each strike like a pre-planned, rehearsed dance, or maybe a line in an epic legendary poem. It was exhilarating, and terrifying, and ultimately satisfying. This fight was what it had all come down to, what everything had been leading up to. Ganondorf's sword slid down the length of his, the metal screeching up until they locked at the hilt, and he was surprised to feel a smile on his face, countering the ferocious snarl on his foe's. Sheer adrenaline let him twist and fling the Dark Lord back, bounding forwards to finish the fight.

At least that was the idea. Somehow, Ganondorf's long, elegant blade had moved impossibly high, and instead of leaping over it, Link found himself vaulting right for the point. He twisted desperately, flinging his left arm back, pulling his body to the side. Instead of plunging right through his body, the sword raked from his shoulder down, tearing through his tunic and belts, skittering down the chainmail underneath. He hit the ground rolling, feeling his scabbard fall off behind him, and he pushed himself up again, ignoring the new, fresh flares of pain along his chest and side.

Link took a deep breath and winced, taking a shallower one the next time. Although he didn't think he had any broken ribs, he was willing to bet that he was already bruising purple. While losing the shield had almost been a relief, losing his belts and scabbard was oddly disconcerting. The straps were a constant, reassuring pressure, and having them gone was disquieting, not to mention the fact that his potion bottles had smashed when he'd landed on them.

Perhaps Ganondorf could smell the blood from where a shard of glass had wormed its way through his chainmail, or maybe he could sense his increased pain and tiredness some other way. Or perhaps he was just getting bored of the back-and-forth and just wanted to win. Either way, Link backpedalled desperately as Ganondorf's wickedly powerful blows rained down on him, deflecting on occasion and mostly just trying to dodge.

Abruptly, he felt the strange not-heat of the barrier at his back and he stumbled, raising the Master Sword to catch yet another blow from the side. He was too off-balance to keep a proper grip, and Ganondorf's blade twisted against his, ripping the sword from his hand. Link looked up, eyes wide, pressing back against the barrier, then stood up straight, ignoring every ache, every tearing pain. He glared right into his enemy's eyes unflinchingly, even as he watched the blade come down in his peripheral vision.
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Endgame