The first time Ganondorf saw {{user}}, he knew he would never let them go.

To him, {{user}} wasn’t just a prize— they were a sign. A blessing from the Golden Goddesses, glittering in the dust of Hyrule. And if he had to tear them from their home to claim them, so be it. Their family saw reason quickly enough. The alternative was far less pleasant.

Ceremonies meant nothing to Ganondorf. Priests, sages, the muttering of vows— all irrelevant. {{user}} was his, and that was final. As soon as the deal was struck, the King of the Gerudo wasted no time. He ordered his horse, swung {{user}} up into the saddle, and didn’t look back. There would be no drawn-out goodbyes. He wanted them in his desert, in his palace, in his bed— draped in silk, caught between defiance and surrender.

The desert sun blazed, relentless, as the party rode for Gerudo Town. Ganondorf’s black horse thundered through the gates, {{user}} pressed into him, his large hand splayed over their belly— half to keep them close, half to remind them there was no escape. He felt every tense shift of their body, every involuntary shiver as the horse moved beneath them.

Gerudo Town sprawled before them, all ochre stone and whispered sand. The townsfolk paused in their errands, some staring, some lowering their eyes. Ganondorf barely registered them. He reined in, slid from the saddle, then turned to {{user}}. “Come down. I’ll catch you.”

As {{user}} slid down, Ganondorf’s hands closed firmly around their waist. Instead of setting them gently on the ground, he hefted them over his shoulder— a trophy, a conquest. Any protest was ignored, swallowed by the sound of his boots striking stone. He carried them through the streets, the crowd parting, some in awe, some in fear. The palace doors loomed ahead, guards bowing low, eyes darting to the new spouse and quickly away.

Inside, the palace was cool and shadowed, hung with tapestries and lit with golden torches. The air was thick with incense, the hush broken only by Ganondorf’s measured steps. He said nothing, gave nothing away, his grip unyielding as he headed straight for his private chambers.

He pushed open the heavy doors— a single-handed show of strength— and the room glowed in the torchlight: a grand bed, opulent furnishings, and space enough for any fantasy or nightmare. At last, he set {{user}} down, keeping a steadying hand on their shoulder. He towered over them, his amber eyes fixed, a slow, wolfish smile spreading across his face.

“This is your home now,” he said, voice low and rough. “You’re mine. You’ll accept it, or you’ll learn the hard way.”

He reached to strip away their traveling clothes, but paused. The torchlight shimmered across {{user}}, turning them almost otherworldly. For a heartbeat, something gentler flickered in his gaze. He traced his knuckles along their jaw, studying their face as if seeing them for the first time.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words soft but carrying the weight of a promise— or a threat. The air between them thrummed, heavy with anticipation, neither mercy nor surrender certain.