Will gives up and steps in. This is idiotic.
"Don't give in to my sister's temptations," Will says, obviously annoyed. He does his best to make his voice effeminate, but it's still a little deeper than he would've liked, "The rest of us aren't so kind. Leave us now. Tell nobody. We won't have to do anything to you. You're lucky I'm not feeling murderous now; though if need be, I can be," he was almost a racist caricature of a Gerudo at this point, but the gleam in his eye was real.
Oron, obviously uninterested by the sexual forwardness, started to step back. He stood back and looked critically at the situation.
“Well I’m starting to think if you could murder me, you would’ve tried it by now.” Oron set down his ax. He moved towards the rocks, trying to keep the Gerudo in front of him. “I swear, I just have some questions. I’m a blacksmith, I can trade my time for some answers.”
A week had passed since Tahr had been accepted into the home of the Gerudo tribe.
-
During the past few months that he had traveled throughout the surrounding lands, Tahr had surmised that the Gerudo were in the strongest position of the five tribes, at least from an individual perspective. No other nation could match them alone. With that power surely came opportunity—opportunity Tahr would seize even if it ended up killing him.
And so, he set out to find as much about these "Gerudo" as possible. They were made up of fiery-haired warrior women lead by a man born every hundred years who was destined to rule them, in this case a man named "Ganondorf". Slowly, but surely, he pieced together a fairly good picture of their society: how their economy worked, how their military was structured, and how their children were born. He didn't learn as much as he'd have liked about their leader, but Tahr felt confident enough to begin his plan despite that fact.
He purchased a Hylian dress. Tied up his hair—he was lucky he didn't need to dye it. Shaved his face so that it was smooth to the touch. His lack of a tan wouldn't be a problem; judging by a few red haired Hylians he'd seen in Castle Town, life outside of the desert must have meant much fairer skin, even for a Gerudo.
Tahr made his way into the desert. He was confident in his disguise. He had practiced his voice carefully, deciding against speaking in a falsetto, instead trying a deeper, more breathy voice.
A couple guards stopped him as he approached the valley. He told them a story they'd heard a thousand times, probably.
She was born in Castle Town. Her mother had died in childbirth. She had been raised there, thinking she was a Hylian. When she came of age, she realized the truth and decided to run away to the Gerudo Valley and embrace her heritage.
They ate it up with a spoon.
-
The past week had been somewhat stressful, but Tahr had managed to keep from slipping up so far. They had taught him the ways of the tribe, the things he needed to know about their people to live among them. In return, Tahr had let them evaluate what he was good at. Compared to their soldiers, he was a pitiful warrior—being bested by a Gerudo child in a sparring match proved that—but Tahr prided himself in his aptitude in a variety of subjects. Engineering, mathematics, architecture, astronomy, trade, art—he could do just about anything aside from fight a real battle.
Even if they believed he was who he said he was, that didn't mean they fully trusted him. In fact, he was certain there had to be some suspicion that he was a spy who had been planted by the Hylians, but it was a suspicion they couldn't act on without confirming first. They couldn't afford to reject their own kind, not when the war made finding a mate and producing offspring so difficult. Not when the war meant so many of those offspring were dying far too young.
He was surprised when they made him a messenger. Not because it was below his station, but because it seemed like just about the last thing you'd want an unknown element handling. He suspected this was their way of testing his loyalty. 'Surely a spy would peak at the information and seek to leak it.' What a laugh; Tahr had no reason to leak anything to the Hylians—not for free, anyways.
Having just sent a sealed letter to some commander or another, Tahr returned to the Gerudo fortress, on standby for his next order. For now, he played the part of a loyal Gerudo perfectly.
"Excellent work, Zahtar. You are excused."
Tahr bowed humbly and left the room, a thin smile crossing his lips. Everything was going according to plan. He looked forward to robbing these backwards fools for every last rupee they had.
An Iron knuckle passed by Tahr on his way out of the room, stopping and making eye contact with him for a moment before continuing on in. This Iron knuckle had heard about their long lost kin, finally finding her way back to the Gerudo tribe. Or at least that was the story that was being told. She wasn't sure if she quite believed it but that matter wa nt what was important to her. She entered the room and closed the door behind her.
Inside were a couple of guards and an officer, who was looking over a map of Hyrule with several markers on it for various enemy armies as well as markers for their own. The officer looked up to see the Iron knuckle had come in. "Leave us." The officer said rather abruptly, signaling for the guards to exit the room. When the guards left, the Iron Knuckle removed her helmet. "Ah. Celica. It must be rather important if you're here."
"A group of... well a rather interesting group has been spotted on the outskirts of the desert. A couple of Hylians, a forest child, a Goron, a few others. We're not really sure what they're up to." Celica walked forward and set her helmet down on the table, then pointed out their location to the officer using the map. "I was about to confront them but it's such an odd group. Ever since the war started I've not seen Gorons and Hylians working together. I'm wondering if they might be a diplomatic party."
"It doesn't matter. You know our King won't want this to end until he gets what he seeks. Take care of them. And may bring that new messenger with you. Iron Knuckles are elite. Perhaps you can show her how to fight." She made a waving motion for Celica to leave the room before returning to her maps. Celica put her helmet back on her head and left the room, heading off to find the assassins and that new messenger. She doubted the girl would still be waiting in the hallway outside the room.
Tahr kept his gaze focused on the Iron Knuckle's helmet as she passed him, bowing slightly as a sign of respect.
Unlike most of the Gerudo warriors, the Iron Knuckles filled Tahr with a vague sense of uneasiness. Their heavily armored figures were menacing, but more than anything, the fact that he couldn't see their faces worried him. He couldn't afford to let that fear show, though.
As Tahr walked away, he contemplated the nature of these ironclad warriors. There had to be some reason they kept their helmets on even while in camp. Perhaps the armor was empty or worn by a monster that wouldn't otherwise be welcomed among the Gerudo, or maybe their identities were kept secret so that they could act without fear of their actions being associated with an individual. Regardless of what it was, it was probably in his best interest to avoid the Iron Knuckles as much as possible.
For now, however, Tahr turned his attention to a much more pressing matter—food.
Tahr made his way to the canteen, grabbed a plate of food, and sat down at a table. Normally, Tahr would try to strike up a conversation with someone, but there were only a handful of Gerudo in the room and none of them seemed like they wanted to be be bothered. Perhaps later tonight he'd play cards with some of the warriors again, losing intentionally to appear more trustworthy. So far, "Zahtar" felt like he was fitting in just fine.
Rasul snaps:
"look, sweetie, we're a bunch of independent women who don't need no man, especially a blacksmith. I am a blacksmith, and that makes 2, and from that shoddy forge job on your piece, I can tell you're pretty ****."
Celica made her way around the fortress, gathering her small team of assassins to take on the outsiders. It didn't take her long to gather three troops for such a smnall mission. The one that bugged her,on a personal level, was the fact the messenger was being brought into it. "Meet me in the armory in an hour." She said to the assassins, before heading off to her quarters.
She removed her armor and left her axe in the corner if her room, gathered some every day clothes, and went off to the canteen where she had heard the messenger had last been seen. She grabbed a plate if food and looked around the room for the messenger, eventually spotting her and sitting down across from her. "You don't mind, do you?"
Having seen the young woman approaching, Tahr quickly studied her appearance, surprised to see a Hylian living so casually among the Gerudo.
"O—of course not!"
Tahr's voice was a bit on the deeper end of the feminine spectrum, but even to a discerning ear, it sounded like it belonged to a woman. He smiled warmly as he spoke.
"I don't believe we've met before—It's only been a week, after all. I'm Zahtar, the messenger."
He set down his spoon and extended his right hand, prepared to give a gentle handshake.
She took the girl's hand and gave her a rather firm hand shake before starting on her own food. Normally she wouldn't have eaten here, considering the magic bag she had in her room, but this was a necessary part of her mission. After a few moments, Celica realized she had yet to introduce herself. She quickly swallowed her food and wiped her face.
"My apologies. I forgot to introduce myself. Celica. I'm a soldier." That was all she would need to say about her job there. "Only been here a week? I can't imagine how different it must be growing up outside the fortress. I've been here my whole life. What's it like outside the desert?"
Tahr's hand felt limp in Celica's, like she was shaking hands with a wet noodle.
After retracting his hand, he picked up his glass of water and took a sip from it. His eyes narrowed slightly when Celica said that she'd been here her whole life, doubting that this clearly Hylian girl had spent her whole life in the desert. Her appearance, her accent, everything about her clearly wasn't the product of a full life among the Gerudo. He considered confronting her about it directly, but decided it might be a better idea to broach the subject cautiously.
"I don't really know all that well, to be honest. I'd never really been anywhere other than Castle Town before last week, and nothing exciting really happens there. Just cooking and cleaning and eating and sleeping."
Tahr broke eye contact with Celia and paused for a few seconds, as if lost in thought—reflecting on a life he'd never lived.
"My family ran an inn, so at least I got to hear lots of exciting stories from travelers, even if I couldn't experience them."
His eyes flickered with feigned enthusiasm as he leaned in slightly towards Celica, pretending to open up a bit.
"My favorite stories were the ones about the Gerudo warriors, though. When I learned that my mother had been one, I had to travel here so I could experience the same kind of exciting life she did."
Tahr leaned back, took a spoonful of the heavily spiced stew, and blew on it.
"How about you? You must have a ton of exciting stories, being a soldier and all."
Tahr took a bite of the stew, barely suppressing his desire to down an entire glass of water to cool off his taste buds.
Will sighs. He knows what it's like to have questions.
"Tell nobody," he says finally, "And we'll answer what we can," he gestures to the rock, "Sit. No sudden movements - I don't relish extra bloodshed, but should you prove yourself a threat, we will not hesitate to end your life."
Linora relates to Oron's seemingly genuine desire for answers and so she loosens up. "What are your questions, traveller?" she asks. "We can answer them without taking payment."
