Fifty Shades of Ganondorf [Ganon, Thaal]

[Eighteen]

They had all gone. One by one, their bodies evaporated into the ethereal portal that led to a magical kingdom. What lay beyond there was a mystery. As much as she, an android, tried to fathom the imagery, she was sure her mind could not compare to reality. Her fingertips barely hovered an inch away from the heat of the swirling mirror. There were distorted images, the smells of a world unknown, a place that every fantasy died to live in. An echo of herself stared, distorted, back at her.

There would be horses, and magic, and castles she was sure. Everything she could ever believe in whimsical fascination just within reach. It would be better than wallowing in self-pity, following an unknown road, trying to escape this hell she’d wound up in. Out in Camelot, Eighteen could see herself just…living. If there were a way to get out, maybe, just maybe, magic would be the answer. This so-called Omnilium was the key to her success.

However, the girl felt those long-since retired urges bubbling up. A sick sense of heroism that had led toward her successes and fame, there, tugging at her incessantly.

“God, damn it,” she said with a disgruntled clutch of one hand into a fist. “Would you do it, Rad? Would you run head-first into a world of mystery and dreams?”

A roll of her eyes and a turn of her body was the answer. Of course Raditzu wouldn’t have had a second thought about it. Not only would he have jumped in, he probably would have done what the girl was about to do. The Saiya-Jin had been capable of doing so many things, and more, still having fun meanwhile. Eighteen was, unlike him, never one for both.

“If I learned one thing,” she muttered as her senses prickled and her gaze lingered on the distance where two figures spoke quietly, “it’s that you can’t trust a man in cape.”

Ganondorf had plans, insidious plans, surely, the sort she’d heard before. It didn’t matter how he tried to cut the silk, or use honeyed-words, the man was up to something. She could see the way the two men portrayed themselves, skulked toward a different land, standing - or in Ganon's case, sitting in saddle - bold and yet…alone. She’d seen these sort back on Earth and…well, if things went as they often did, their plot would undoubtedly enfold the whole of Omni’s universes.

She could be wrong.

Eighteen had been wrong before, more than once. She wasn’t as good as her partner, not in the slightest. He had always been faster, stronger, and more capable. She could count on her hands the times she’s had a mental flip out. For him it was always so easy. All of it made her wonder if now, as she watched Ganondorf and Thaal slip between the fabrics of time and space into the portal to the Dunes, whether she felt she ought to prove something to herself.

Right or wrong, the girl decided that it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek at what they were up to before going off into the magical kingdom of Camelot.

--

Sand, it was everywhere, in every direction, in the air being tossed by the wind and between her toes within her shoes. How it had gotten in her shoes so quickly was beyond her. It was a desert and she was smack-dab in the middle of it. Thoughts of turning around and slinking away toward trees and rivers crossed her mind. Then, there they were, half-buried foot prints left by man or horse. They were indistinguishable, by now, but tracks all the same.

The android immediately set forth, her lithe figure darting between rock and withered tree. The hot red sun glared down heatedly, it was sweltering, but she pressed forth until she gained on them. She could feel them as if they were two beacons just begging to be found. It was unfortunate that she could not sense their strength, as well.

She ducked behind an ample sized pile of weather-worn rocks and heard snippets of conversation from the duo as they stopped in the shade of a particularly large tree. It was by no means a growing, green giant. It was old, gnarled, and lacking much, if any life. It suited the purpose of keeping the sun off their backs. So it was that she waited and listened, fingers gripping the side of the hot stone, wondering if this had been worth the trouble.

"...what's the plan?"

Yes, she thought. What's the plan?

[Ganondorf]

Ganondorf had watched stoically as Aragorn and Dredd had gathered sizable chunks of his fellows into their retinues. It was to be expected, after all they had obvious power and influence, things that appealed to the weak and lost. Though expected, Ganon still felt disappointment well up within him. These people could have anything in this place. BE anything. And though chose to be servants… no, slaves. Slaves to those who would use them until their usefulness ended.

Of course, Ganondorf would have done the same, but at least with him they would have had a chance at greatness. A chance to stand by his side as he ushered in a new order. It would have been glorious… but alas, these people chose to shackle themselves with chains of their own making. With a shake of his head, Ganondorf steered Mirage away from the group and began moving once more towards the gate he had chosen. He didn’t know what lay beyond it. All he knew was that it tugged at him and brought back feelings of his youth. Strange, to feel like he was coming home when he was undoubtedly well away from it.

Lost in his musing, the Gerudo was surprised when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. With a casual turn of his head, Ganondorf saw that the man who had named himself Sinestro had decided to accompany him.
Well, he mused, I may not have gotten the whole pie, but at least I got a slice. An admirable feat, considering I was in no better position than any of the others.

Returning to looking ahead, the duo remained silent until passing through the archway. Once on the other side, Ganondorf immediately realized why he had been feeling the way he had. Scrub bushes, buried stones, and course sand stretched out before them, with the occasional cacti stretching towards the sun directly over head. He truly had come home. True, it was not the desert of his birth, The Gerudo Desert, but the arid land was as much a part of him as his own hand.

Momentarily forgetting the presence of his companion, Ganondorf whispered softly, “I’m home.”

“Home?” Sinestro inquired, now looking up at the Gerudo, “I was sure none of us were from this… Omniverse. How could you be home?”

A bit perturbed over his lack of control in that moment of homecoming, Ganondorf’s brow drew down as he stared down at the red-skinned man. Sinestro, surprisingly, did not back down. Perhaps… perhaps this man truly was as alike to Ganondorf as he had thought when the naked being had first screamed out in desire and frustration. Perhaps, now that they were alone, it was time to share a bit with the man and see whether or not he could be trusted.

Looking back out over the desert, and resuming a walk, Ganondorf began a speech… not the flowery and polite ones as before. For almost the first time since coming here, Ganon spoke the truth, “Once, I envied the Hylians their green fields, flowing rivers, and clean air. To them, life came easily and peace was plentiful. There was no want in their lands, and death was all but a stranger.”

“Not so for myself and my people. In the wastes of the desert, each day was a struggle just to survive. The days were a furnace which could dry a man’s mouth in an instant. The nights like the cold embrace of the dead, ever seeking to claim another life. The wind, fierce and unforgiving, could strip unprotected flesh to the bone, no matter the time of day. Death lay in wait at every moment, at every step.”

“And I wondered to myself, why should these people have so much in life and my people so little? Why should they lay claim to the lush lands and gentle winds of Hyrule while my people suffered? So, I decided to conquer them. I would take their lands and give them to my Gerudo, so that we could prosper as they did.”

“In the end, my assault was beaten back, though only by the combined efforts of every race in the lands. And that’s when I came to my realization.”

Looking down at Sinestro, Ganondorf saw that he had the man’s complete attention. With a smile, he continued.
“I had thought those lands of plenty would help my people. Would give them succor and make them strong. I was wrong. When it took all those races to beat back my small tribe of Gerudo warrior, I knew that the desert… it had given us the greater gift. Sure, the Hylians had peace and plenty. But the Gerudo had strength, REAL strength. We learned to survive at an age where other children were still in swaddling clothes. Never again did I try to take my Gerudo from the desert, because I knew then that it was in our blood, in our bones, and in our soul. To leave the desert behind, for a Gerudo, was to leave himself behind. And now that I have returned to a desert, I am home once more.”

Sinestro raised a quizzical eyebrow as Ganondorf finished, “That’s fascinating, but why tell me all this?”

With a smile, Ganondorf replied, “Because I knew you would appreciate it. And because I felt you would understand, perhaps even relate to, a man who conquers another. A man who conquers in the name of peace. A man who conquers because it’s what must be done.”

Finally, the red-skinned man smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the men crested the next dune, having conversed for awhile after Ganondorf revelation, they finally saw something that wasn’t just dunes, rocks, desert animals, and cacti. A town sprawled out in the bowl below them. Simple wooden affairs, for the most part, but a town none the less. Sinestro turned to Ganondorf with a simple question.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Ganondorf grinned, leaning over the pommel of his saddle towards the town.

“The plan?”

The Gerudo chuckled, stepping down out of the saddle.

“Now, we conquer.”

[Thaal Sinestro]

Post 1

“A man who conquers because it’s what must be done.”

Sinestro’s mind was immediately drawn back into the universe he had once known. Vibrant color and wild emotion streaked through the sky: Verdant green, firm amber, piercing blue, bloody red. They all swept over the canvas of the stars, but the broadest strokes were laid down by one man: Thaal Sinestro.

He smiled the same smile he had given Hal Jordan a thousand times when they were training and planted his foot into the side of the steep dune. His eyes scanned the crystal-blue sky as the wind brushed over his brow. The endless sea of sand and heat reminded him of his first dig, his first attempt to put order to an insane world. He had such hope then.

“The reason your people conquered was not because they were strong,” Sinestro said flatly, offering the titan only his upturned nose and spiteful glare for comfort. “They conquered because of fear.”

The korugaran looked away from Ganondorf and back into the dunes. “The seeds of fear were planted by your uprising and enforced by their power, but in the end it was the fear that made them strong.”

He held his hand before him open, as if holding the planet in his palm. “The fear their enemies had of them, the fear they pinned down like a wild beast in the pits of their souls. They unleashed the power of fear and, for one glimmering moment, you held the world in your hand.” His bright hazel eyes locked with the gerudo’s.

“And then you lost it all.” His fingers curled into a fist, crushing the dream that they both collectively shared, the imagined fragments crumbling to dust.

His eyes narrowed and he walked over to his new ally, leering up at him. “You led your people, as I led mine, to failure. We both made the same mistakes, again and again: we assumed too much of ourselves, too much of our soldiers. We thought that strength could overwhelm them, that strength was enough to sustain their fear.”

Casting his bitter gaze to the side, he sighed mournfully. “Clearly strength is not enough.” As quickly as it had died, the defiant gleam in his eyes returned, “Fear must run deeper that the blade of a sword, Ganondorf.” His hand drifted forward and he pressed his finger into the man’s massive chest over his heart. “We must strike at the very heart of these lands; rend them apart from the inside out.”

Ganondorf’s regal appearance twisted into a diabolical grin and he crossed his arms. “I am glad that we agree, Sinestro.” His hands folded together smoothly, fingers steepling in a practiced, precise manner. “I believe that it is time that we show this ‘Omniverse’ what real leadership looks like.”

A cruel smirk twisted over Sinestro’s lips. “We will show them true order.”

Sharing a solemn nod and a grim look of determination, the two continued through the sweltering heat, towards their shared destiny.

~Legion of Doom~

Hours had passed; enough sand to fill a million hourglasses had grated over them, shearing the soft skin from their exposed cheeks and knuckles. Still they strode on, unhindered.

As the horizon broke, the scattered dots of a thorp came into view. The city was even more worn than they were: worn around the walls, worn over the roofs, worn through the streets and lamps. It was a broken city, undoubtedly ruled by broken men. Fear had nestled into every aspect of their life. Fear in their home, fear in their streets. It would be so simple to break their spirits.

The lantern’s cold eyes scanned over it, unimpressed and dispassionate. “So, what’s the plan?” he asked, not bothering to look at the man he questioned.

Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed as the pieces slowly fell into place in his mind. Sinestro could see the cogs whirring at lightning speed, collecting information and assembling it into some wonderful, unknowable superstructure.

“First, we need to find their enemies,” he said as if it was plain as day. His massive hand ran over his red beard as he pondered a moment longer. “We must assure that we leave a survivor and assure that they are adequately angered. They must know where we will be.” He looked coolly at his companion and his voice turned a rumbled in a darker shade, “They must not know our names.”

“What enemies does a place like this have? The sand and the wind don’t have a body to kill.” Sinestro crossed his arms and his mustache twitched petulantly.

Ganondorf shook his head slowly. “No. In places like this, amid the desert, there are few resources.”

“Ah,” Sinestro smirked, “then there will be those that will want to take them. There is such scarcity that bandits must accost them from every side.”

Nodding, the gerudo slowly rolled his fingers into a fist, shaking it over the city. “And we will show the city our generosity in alleviating them of this issue.”

“Fear will lead the rest to us,” Thaal finished the thought with a sinister grin. “We will rule one with a smile and rule the other with a fist.”

[Ganondorf]

The plan was nearly perfect. Ganondorf would, of course, focus his attention on gaining the town’s support first. While it would be useful to have the local riffraff under his banner, a war fought on two fronts is doomed to fail. Better to work the town’s enemies slowly until the Gerudo King was certain in his control of the town. After that… well, he’d have the might of this small town behind him, meager though it is, and a safe haven from which to work from.

A grin still on his face, Thaal took a step towards the town before Ganondorf stopped him with a word. Something was wrong. Many considered the desert to be a lifeless place, but they were mistaken. Life existed, and even flourished, in the sandy wastes. Those who spent their lives here always knew what to look for or listen to; those who didn’t quickly died to snakebite or worse. Yet… there was a distinct lack of the sounds of life from behind the two men. Allowing his smile to return, Ganon looked over one broad shoulder, raising his voice to be heard.

“Come on out, friend. No use hiding anymore.”

There was a moment of silence after he spoke before the eavesdropper showed herself. It was one of the blonde women from the Fountain. Turning to face her fully, Ganondorf bowed low to the woman.

“Ah… Eighteen, I believe. I suppose you’ve heard everything we’ve said thus far?”

“Yes. You won’t get away with it. I won’t let you.”

Ganondorf’s red-skinned companion took a step towards Eighteen at her remarks, once more stopping at a signal from the gerudo. Sinestro’s previous grin had turned to a scowl at finding this woman following them, or perhaps it was from his ready obedience of Ganon’s commands. It had to grate on the man that he had not only followed on the gerudo’s heels in coming here, but that Ganondorf had taken on the role of superior in their relationship. The strange man would need to be watched in the future.

He had dreams of power, and despite the power that Ganondorf could give him, Sinestro would always wish to be in charge of their relationship, or perhaps his equal. It was unfortunate, then, that there was no being worthy of being the Dark Lord’s equal. Once Sinestro was disillusioned of his delusions, things would run smoothly. Though, as of now, Ganondorf had no complaint in that department. He did, however, have strange fixation on fear, and a worrisome habit of claiming Ganon had failed. That last had better be a rare occurrence.

“Sinestro, please. Allow me to handle this, would you?” Ganondorf said, looking down at his second-in-command. Moving towards Eighteen, who adopted a defensive stance at his approach, Ganondorf bowed his head again in acknowledgement. The woman was skilled, that much was apparent in her bearing. Stopping a few paces from her, Ganondorf continued.

“You won’t let us get away with it, you say? I’m certain you could make our plans difficult to say the least. You could warn the townspeople as to our plans, or fight us when it would be least convenient or when we would be at our weakest.”

The gerudo allowed himself a grin, meeting her blue eyes with his emerald, “Of course, we outnumber you two to one, and this moment presents us with an opportunity to rid ourselves of your meddling… Though, if this Omni is to be believed, it would be a temporary reprieve at best.”

Those blue eyes hardened like ice at Ganondorf’s latest words, the King smiling inwardly at the reaction. Bowing his head again, arms outstretched to the sides, the Gerudo King spoke again, knowing what her answer would be before she spoke it.

“Neither of these options holds much attraction to me, however. I’m certain you feel the same, my Lady. A lifetime spent ensuring that two men don’t do evil isn’t exactly ideal. Therefore, I propose a… solution.”

Ganondorf’s smile deepened as he continued, “You and I… we fight. On my honor, it will be a fair fight; I won’t ask for assistance from my companion and formally forbid him from interfering as well. If I win… you work for me. You don’t interfere with my work; in fact you help me accomplish it. I will, however, allow you to choose which assignments you would work on, so as not to offend your moral code. In time, I believe that you will see the wisdom in what I do. If you win, I will instead be your servant. I will do as you say. Both of these eventualities, of course, as subject to debate and the circumstances may change if, in the future, the loser challenges the victor to a fight and wins. What do you say, Lady?”

Finally, the woman graced Ganondorf with a smile, the sort of thing a confident person would do in response to such a challenge. "I agree. Let's begin."

[Eighteen]

“I agree,” Eighteen’s lips twitched to one side as she spoke. “Let’s begin.” The android’s body shifted, comfortably settling into the stance she had honed over the last decade.

Fighting had become something more to her than just winning and losing. It was a dance that took years to perfect and even then, it was never perfect. There was only one person in her eyes that was better, faster, and stronger, and that person was Raditzu. It was a shame she had never settled the debate and kicked his ass for good. Now she would never have that chance.

The alien landscape was very much like the desert situated between Central City and Satan City back home. Its sunlight was harsh, beating a sweat out of her, causing the perspiration to slicken down the back of her shirt. The white, black-striped sleeves of her shirt had been pulled up to her elbows to provide some relief but it wasn’t much. It didn’t help that her blue-jeans were designed for the cooler temperatures of Central City, as it was autumn right now.

Thoughts of the leaves turning gold made the girl forget that she was, effectively, dead. Also, she forgot for a fraction of a second that she was supposed to be a grandiose superhero at this moment in time.

Ganondorf’s hammering fist collided with a punitive crack against her cheek, and she was sent off, spinning into the dust of the dunes. There was an instant flash of lights and blots behind her eyes. Along with that, she spat out a curse, and grasped at the dirt in pain that she hadn’t felt in what had to have been more than three years.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she belittled herself. First rule, never get distracted. I shouldn’t have stopped those tournaments, I needed to keep training. It doesn’t help that I’ve lost all my damn power here.

Eighteen stood from the ground, and her blue eyes flashed steel, staring right at the demon of a man a yard away.

“You do know how to fight, don’t you?” he quipped in eloquence. “It’s one thing to talk, it’s another to-

A blast erupted at the would-be king’s feet, casting dirt and rocks every which way, and the cloud enveloped him from head to toe. His words were left to hang in the air. Eighteen lowered her hand, shaking it a fraction. The jolt of power was different. It was like ki, and yet, completely alien. Omnilium would take some getting used to. For now, these basic blasts would have to do.

The blonde bolted into the settling debris before another second was lost. A burst of wind tore at the landscape, dragging the dust away, revealing the two combatants in the throes of battle. It was hardly the stuff of legend. Eighteen was trapped by dark-skinned hands like pincers on her wrists. The pair stood with the struggle clear in their eyes – green against blue.

“You’re strong,” he rumbled thickly, pushing, his cape flapping in the wind.

“I used to kill punks like you all the time back home,” she struggled to speak, fighting back against his strength as the power struggle continued. Unfortunately, she was losing. Ganondorf was a fraction stronger than her; it was beginning to show in the slipping of her feet against the crumbled earth at their feet. Beads of sweat clung to the sides of her face, unlike her adversary; she was not a desert dweller.

“Stop playing around, Ganondorf. This is taking far too long,” Thaal commented from the side, a look of annoyance pinching at his face.

“Nonsense, I’m only getting started,” replied the king. With a sudden shift in his body, the android was pulled rather than pushed, brought into his personal space.

Wide eyes were widened further as the young woman cried out in pain. The male delivered a powerful knee into her gut, sweeping weakness through her core, and making her strength wane. He didn’t stop there. With a fluid motion she was pushed away, and in return for her initial attack, he fired off a dark surge of energy. It nailed into her and made her tumble into a pile of lopsided boulders.

Eighteen spat out a wad of blood as she knelt against the hot sand; her body shook in anger at the pain. It was a cruel joke. Coming here, being like this, it was as if Hell had been too kind for her. At least in Hell she would have been able to fight her way out. She couldn’t even transcend her current state. It was as if her life had been little more than a dream and she really was…human.

The girl rolled aside before another blast could cut into her. Boulders toppled over and sent up a plume of dust in their wake. She found her footing and swallowed up all sense of self, instead, focusing on everything external. The pain in her side, the smell of the twisted tree five feet away, the taste of salt on her lips, everything was taken into account.

“The last thing I remember,” she said, as she slowly paced away, keeping lock on Ganondorf’s eyes. They were at another standstill. “I was hit by a bus. I saved the planet more times than I could count on one hand, but a bus…”

The girl let out a chuckle then and wiped at the dribble of blood on her bottom lip with her hand. “I can’t change who I am though, and I’ll go after the bad guys, even when I die...But I have to wonder, if you’re such a big shot, why the hell are you even here?"

The android jumped, then, as she neared the tree. Most of her strength was gone, but her ability to jump was there. If she couldn’t fly, she’d use the tree to her advantage. She just had to hope that being such a big, burly guy, Ganondorf would be less agile. He was too dangerous up close, she would need to keep her distance.

"Let me guess, that kid…the one in the green. He did you in, didn’t he?” she added as she perched on one of the higher branches and began to charge another attack in her hands.

[Thaal Sinestro]

Sinestro stood back and glared at the two combatants as the muddled though the fight, which now appeared more like and awkward schoolyard scuffle than it did a duel. He watched them both intently, straining his already-weary eyes to catch every intricate detail of the battle.

He wasn’t accustomed to paying attention to the things he was forced to now. The strength of a punch, accuracy of a kick, the posture of the attack and the stance of the defense, none of it meant much to him. Even when they began to release their given powers, energy blasts and leaping and whatever else they happened to toss into the mix, it seemed foreign. It was a bit strange to the Lantern that these were even factors that would feed into an earnest fight between two people.

It wasn’t common for him to fight with just his fists. Before he had his ring, he never had to fight at all. He was accustomed to gauging the emotions of his opponents: rage, love, hope, fear… will. Those were the grounds on which his wars were fought.

Every sneer, every cringe and grandiose posture exposed or revealed something about the people he fought. If either of the people before him now wore rings, they’d barely be able to generate a blip of power. They’d be dead already if they had somehow made it into his Corps.

But, he admitted to himself, these were the ones that fought with their fists. Or at least they used to be. They both accepted blows as if they expected nothing to happen and launched attacks like every hit should crumble mountains. He had seen this kind of dissonance between expectation and strength before, though he strained to remember the exact details.

The kryptonians were the ones that first came to mind. Both the boy from the Prime universe and his adult counterpart that lived on his reality’s version of Earth were fueled by the radiation of the yellow sun.

When Sinestro and the Anti-Monitor had freed Superman Prime from his prison, he had been almost as weak as any other child of his age. Though, despite his mundainity, every time he moved, he thought the stars would part before him. Every time his fist hit something, his eyes would tell the story of his sinking heart, disappointed and shocked. Afraid, even. He wasn’t used to being so powerless, so useless.

When his knuckles it something, he expected it to break.

As these two went on with their little bout, he saw the same thing. She outright let him punch her, her mind obviously drifting off to some other thing, as if she would be more that quick enough to move out of the way as a reaction. When his fist hit her, his eyes widened, his own trickle of fear seeping in through the cracks. She fired a bolt, and was almost confused by the very nature of it being in her hands. His energy was the same. It was like they were fighting with other people’s bodies, clunky and confused.

They were even, or at least almost even, in overall ability. Certainly, there were strengths and weaknesses, but it was plain to see that the playing field was practically even; neither had powers more potent or arms significantly stronger than the other. It was up to them who would win this fight.

It would make sense that Omni would even the playing field for his pieces, ensuring each plaything had the utmost opportunity to be as powerful as the others. What would be the fun of just pitting power against power? The better would win, time and time again. There was no game in a sure thing. If he had been given his ring, he would have cleaned them all away in a glorious sea of yellow and terror. If not yellow, then perhaps white.

The name of this particular game was Omilium, and he wouldn’t be so wasteful with it as the others. With enough of it, he could bring his ring here, and with the might of the Qwardian Power ring, this pathetic universe would topple like a deck of cards. How quaint it was that they were so proud of their city and their castles. Soon they would be rubble and dust, and this little game would be over.

In the meantime, it would be important that he stick with people he could use. He was more than happy to play into Ganondorf’s plans for conquest. He was more than happy to help create order in yet another universe that so desperately lacked the kind of control that he was so well suited to creating.

Here, in this universe, there was nothing to get in his way. No Jordon, no Guardians, no misguided attempts at heroism that would only lead to the downfall of creation. Certainly these bungling idiots, even if they managed to regain whatever powers they once had, wouldn’t be able to stand in his way. For once in his life, there were nothing to hold him back but his own ambition. Nothing stopping his glorious ascension.

Only Sinestro.

[Ganondorf]

The woman was tough, Ganondorf had to grant her that much. Fortunately, like himself, she had overestimated her previous strength and that shock had been enough for the Gerudo to force her out of melee with him. Of course, it had taken the will of a god to have over-powered her before, and his muscles were still shaking at the strain. Still, now that he had manipulated Eighteen into giving him some space, he had a very welcome breather on his hands.

Crossing his arms over his burly chest, Ganondorf looked at Eighteen with a cocky grin on his face. It was more bluster than anything, though. After all, she was a strong fighter, and Ganon was unsure as to whether he would be able to best her or not.

Then again, he thought with an inward grimace. It seems I don’t really have a choice. I won’t be her servant, even if I COULD still play her like a fiddle while acting like her lackey.

And, even worse, it would show weakness to that red-skinned man. Were he to lose this fight, not only would he lose his credibility in Sinestro’s eyes, but he’d certainly have to struggle to retain his leadership position. No… far better to win this sparring match decisively and show that… fool what a challenge to his authority would bring.

These thoughts had coursed through Ganon’s mind in an instant, his mind having automatically tuned out the mocking voice of Eighteen as she sought to goad him into a foolish move. Perhaps it had worked for her in the past, but this was the Gerudo’s game. In pushing people into doing what he wished, he was a master. And so, he thought with a grin, I suppose I could try that…

Dark energy flowed around his hand as he raised it before him, looking like a fire which absorbed light rather than shed it. Moving swiftly, Ganondorf flung the energy forward like a baseball, heading straight for the lady in the tree.

[Ganondorf]

As the blast sped towards Eighteen, Ganondorf allowed himself a sly grin as it suddenly dropped before reaching her, hitting the tree with a loud crack of splintering wood and starting the deadwood into a fall. She leapt from her perch as the tree began to lean, and the re-haired man sent three more blasts of energy after her as she went airborne, assuming the woman would be less-maneuverable in the air. Surprisingly, he was wrong.

The lithe blonde twisted in mid-air, starting a top-like spin as she avoided his first blast. Tucking her head and knees in changed his spin into a somersault, causing the second blast to pass harmlessly underneath her. For the third, Eighteen must have decided a show of force was in order, as she deftly fired her own energy blast straight for it, causing a premature explosion that shrouded her in smoke.

For a moment, Ganondorf was struck by the beauty of her movements, and it took him back to his childhood. Sparring with that traitorous wench, she had always beaten him by being more agile, smaller, and more in tune with the environment. That is, until he stopped relying on his strength entirely and started using his guile. It seemed that this battle wouldn’t be decided by power either.

Unfortunately, that momentary lapse in concentration would cost Ganondorf, as Eighteen emerged from the smoke spinning head over heels and bringing a strong kick down towards his head. He only barely had time to bring his arms up to absorb the blow before she struck, and the shock caused his bones to creak and sent him to a knee. Cursing his foolishness under his breath, the Gerudo was then caught with a sidelong second kick to his ribs. Several of his ribs cracked under the force of the blow as Ganon was sent tumbling along the scorched earth. Digging his fingers into the landscape, the desert man righted himself as he slowed himself down.

Ganondorf looked up in time to notice that the woman was pressing her advantage, being almost directly atop him and ready to strike him with a flattening fist. Instinct told him that even he couldn’t continue to take this sort of beating, and his cunning took over in an attempt to turn the tables once again. Dirt, gathered from his latest tumble, was thrown at her face. A seasoned fighter, she barely blinked at the distraction, but that was enough for Ganondorf to duck under her haymaker. Face twisted in both a snarl and a grin, the Gerudo directed energy from his ranged attacks into an uppercut, seeking a way to end this fight quickly before exhaustion and pain took him.

The blow connecting, Eighteen nearly flew into the air, eyes closed and teeth locked into a grimace as she lifted from the ground. It was as Ganondorf had feared, however, when he had hit her before: she was much tougher than her frame would suggest. The blonde warrior regained her composure mid-air, somersaulting and landing on her feet some distance away. She stared coldly at Ganon, spitting a line of blood onto the hot dirt and despite the weather, the Gerudo felt a chill pass through him.

[Eighteen]

There was a coldness to her eyes, surprisingly, considering how fucking hot the sun was in this dust-bowl. The android didn’t have the benefit of being a robot. She still leaked like the best of humans, and it was ridiculous. The perspiration was never ending. She’d gone and spoiled herself living in Central City, where the air wasn’t scorching, and the land wasn’t dead. There were days where she would lament on the life she’d lived, a life as a warrior, and realize just how much she missed feeling her knuckles crunching into something fleshy. It seemed that her unspoken wants had been delivered.

A wad of blood collided with the heated soil, and she slid the back of her wrist along her mouth. The bitter taste of blood, a sign of possible defeat, didn’t sit well with her. It was disgusting. Where had her powers gone? It was a constant question, and from the look on Ganondorf’s face, he wasn’t as confident as he had played off. The man was downright exhausted.

It wasn’t as if she would let him do it.

Eighteen stood from the ground, clenched her fingers inwards, and collected her strength. A stray gust of hot, ripping wind dragged her tattered jean jacket’s edges. Golden hair had to be pulled behind one ear as it nearly blocked her vision. She’d fought in wars; she’d been fused with other warriors and destroyed buildings. She couldn’t even do this one thing.

If she lost, there was no way in hell she’d just give up.

The girl had to admit that, in truth, she had probably bitten off more than she could true. Indeed, as her eyes roamed for a moment toward the smaller framed male some feet away, she knew she was already out numbered. If only there were something she could do…and it was a gamble. She hadn’t been able to fly, there was a chance that she wouldn’t have any of her other abilities. What else was there, though, except to fight for her life? Eighteen would much rather have died, than become some thrall to this beast of a man.

Would he kill her? There was only one way to find out.

She was off like a bullet. This caught the Gerudo off guard, but not by much. Blows were laid out like a dance never done before. It was an equal give and take, as Ganondorf met her fists with his forearms, her kicks with pure speed. There came a moment where her foot finally connected, but the male was more than able to bounce back by her pathetic attack. He nailed her hard in the side with a fist that may as well have been made of metal.

This back and forth went on for what felt like ages. It very well could have been, as the girl felt her strength wane and her heart pound in desperation. There had been a few moments in her life where she’d felt this way, outmatched, at a loss, in need of someone. This time she was going to lose. This time she wouldn’t be saved by him.

“What’s the matter, girl?” the King sneered with a wipe of his brow. His body was haggard, but his exuding confidence wouldn’t let him give up. He stood in a way that said; no, not today. Ganondorf was a different sort of man, the sort of man, no, warrior, she would have enjoyed fighting in a tournament. “Tired already?”

“We’re all tired, Ganondorf,” Thaal interjected from the sidelines as he folded his arms against his chest. Maybe, if he’d been allowed to join, it would have ended much sooner.

“Hardly,” she said with a second wind, and straightened her body. The android let the wind pleasingly buffet her damp face and enjoyed the brief respite. It didn’t last long, as she narrowly dodged a blast of energy the size of her head.

“I nearly had her that time.”

“Seems to me, you missed.”

“Quiet” the King rumbled, and moved away from Thaal. A clouded look filled his dark face, a look of thought, and strategy. It would only be a matter of time before either of them faltered. Eighteen was a fighter, this was clear now; she wasn’t a mere girl pretending to be a hero. It would take something to take her down; equally, it would take something to take him down.

It all boiled down to who could pull off their strategy fastest.

Eighteen put several feet of distance between them, and in doing that, she knew what her best move would be. With or without the power available to her, she had to try, because this was all she had left. Her body wasn’t up for this unending heat, and it wasn’t up for the constant barrage of painful blow after blow, so she mustered every ounce of Omnilium and power in her ragged little body and lifted her hands to either side of her body.

“What is she doing now?” Thaal questioned, brows furrowing. It was like watching two fumbling monkeys.

Ganondorf didn’t stay still long enough to reply. It was now or never. She had already proven to be a thorn in the side, and he didn’t feel like being pricked any further. His strong legs bounded him across the distance toward the woman whose hands glowed brightly with power. His cloak danced behind him in the sun and drifting sand, majestic, despite being so dastardly dark.

“I may have lost most of my powers in this place, but I’ll use what I have left if I have to!” she shouted as the man steadily approached. “Final-

Ganondorf closed the distance with an outreaching hand. The gloved hand found a fistful of her silken hair from the back of her head. His other hand clasped her shoulder, gripping like a vice, and in one fluid motion the girl was pulled into his body, easily dwarfed by the size of him.

The next thing Eighteen knew, the Gerudo King was crushing his lips against hers and her power sputtered out like the death of a lit candle in a wayward breeze. Her hands hung in the air, her breath caught in her throat, the man encased her in this way for mere moments that felt like days. It all rushed to her head. The fact of the matter was, she’d only ever kissed one man, and this was no time for that. Her hands lifted a second too late, because Ganondorf had expected just the right reaction.

When her hands desperately grabbed at his chest armor, he retaliated, and in a swift shift of his body, his knee found a home buried in her gut. It landed true, and hard, making the young woman double over his knee in total agony.

“You…bastard,” she spat in blood, and clung to the splotches that swam in her eyes. It was one hit too many, and just for good measure, Ganondorf promptly chopped the back of her head with a well-placed reply.

She, however, didn’t hit the ground. Instead, the larger fighter held her off the ground, and then proceeded to heft her up over a shoulder.

“Well, that wasn’t expected,” Thaal commented as the Gerudo walked back toward his horse.

“What did you expect?”

The male rubbed his chin a moment and then waved his hands a little. “Death and destruction?” he replied. “She’s going to be nothing but trouble, you know.”

“Better we take her with us, than let her find a way to alert the town of our plans.”

Despite being a little worn down, the Gerudo King got saddled and left Eighteen over his lap like a well-earned trophy. If he played his cards right, she’d make a good pawn in this game of his.

[Thaal Sinestro]

Sinestro rolled his eyes as the giant smashed his broad, smooth lips into the woman’s mouth. His gut churned just a little bit at the ridiculousness of it, but there it was: using emotion as a weapon. There would have been better ways to do it, more streamlined, less risky, but perhaps the gerudo could learn to harness it someday. Until then, he was just a large man with heavy fists.

He dumped the new captive over his lap and sat atop his horse (the poor thing’s knees were almost buckling) and raised an eyebrow down to the strange red man. “Will you be walking?”

Thaal squinted up to him, his lips curling into a frown. His eyes wandered the sprawling sands, the harsh light of the sun already stinging his eyes.

“I’m not going to summon another horse for you. You have your own omnilium to use.” The red-haired giant smirked and spurred his horse forward, leaving Sinestro behind. “Just be happy I gave you clothes,” he chuckled.

Sinestro’s nostrils flared in irritation and the image of bashing the titan’s skull in with a rock flashed through his mind. Taking a deep breath, he smoothed his mustache over and set off into the sweltering desert.

The dunes seemed to spread out in every direction, forever. Sinestro wasn’t even sure if this planet, or whatever it was had a day/night cycle, and it was impossible to tell how long it would be even if there was one. He had no idea how long he had been under that sun and had no idea how much longer it was until it set.

Ganondorf was still suffering from the effects of the heat, but he bore it more proudly. But for all that pride, even he would need water at some point.

The heavy boots on Sinestro’s feet sank into the sand and dragged him down. They were half-filled with sand already. The heavy clothing protected him from the sun’s rays but gave nowhere for his heat to travel, the primitive cloth forming a sealed sweatbox all around his body. He began to fear that he might die following a crazed giant through some desolate wasteland.

Again the korugaran was amazed by the strength and tenacity of a horse that could carry such a massive man, another rider and not die of exhaustion as it sweat. Perhaps Omni kept it alive, or, more accurately, it wasn’t alive at all. Perhaps everything made of omnilium was simply a complex construct, much like those who Larfleeze had murdered and reconstituted with the orange light of avarice. It wouldn’t be the first time Sinestro had seen entire worlds constructed from nothing.

“Wait,” he finally gasped, holding his hand up to block the sun, “I need water.”

Ganondorf stopped and tugged the reigns back, facing his compatriot. “Then make some, Sinestro,” he spat back. “I am neither your mother nor your errand boy. You are fully capable of making your own.”

The ex-lantern’s skin was already red so only the mottled dark spots indicated the heat stroke. He imagined having ring and the protective layer it would wrap around him. He wanted to feel the cool void of space again. Holding his hand out in front of him, he began to concentrate, pushing all of his will to its ragged limits.

“That’s it, it should only take a few minutes and you can drink ‘til your heart is content.” A smile spread over the would-be-king’s face.

The gerudo’s prompting only infuriated him more, and he felt a thin trail of blood coming from his nose. Righting himself, he wiped the blood away, and tried to let the image of his ring fade away. “I still can’t summon it,” he spat, “Make me some water.”

“I don’t take commands from you, Sinestro.” Ganondorf sat up straight in his saddle and tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at the little red man. “You would do well to remember that.”

All of Sinestro’s features tightened as he clenched his jaw, fists balled at his sides. He took long, purposeful strides towards the man and stood before him. “And you would do well to remember, Ganondorf, that without me all that you have in this universe is a very irate woman who won’t fall for the same trick twice. You don’t have a plan, you don’t have a base of operations, you don’t have anything but me and a horse.” His eyes narrowed, and for a moment a flicker of amber could almost be seen in his iris. “I can either be a powerful ally or a powerful enemy. I will let you decide which.”

Whatever backlog of patience Ganondorf had in reserve had been swallowed up be the exhaustion and nearly-catastrophic fight. He hefted the woman up, dismounted and gruffly dropped her limp body back onto the saddle. He stepped up within inches of Sinestro, towering over him. “And perhaps it would be best if you were no longer a concern? Who’s to say that this… ‘disagreement’ won’t become a bigger issue? Maybe I should snuff you out now, little man.”

The man’s deep olive skin was practically bristling, his dull eyes glaring down, cape fluttering in the arid breeze. Sinestro was smaller, thirsty, and had little training to fall back on. None of that mattered to the Greatest Lantern.

“You can barely put down a little girl, and yet you’re going to challenge me?” Sinestro stepped away and began circling the giant, a petulant smirk on his face. “You little trick won’t work quite a well I don’t think,” he nagged, “and you seem more than a little tired. And then it’ll be my word and the woman’s against yours, even if you win. My death will decide nothing, Ganondorf and all of your cards will be laid flat on the table for everyone to see.”

For a moment, the two stared each other down as the blistering winds blew the sand into their faces, neither willing to budge an inch. Suddenly the gerudo laughed, his deep, resonating voice carrying over the dunes. “I like you, Sinestro,” he chuckled, holding his hand out, a small sphere of light slowly glowing into existence. “You know how to play this game, don’t you?” He walked back towards his horse and mounted back up, placing his prize back into his lap. “Just remember,” he grinned, “I’m not your errand boy.”

He tossed the cool, heavy waterskin to Sinestro, who quickly opened and swilled down a few massive gulps. “I will,” he responded before taking another drink. “Now where exactly are we going?”

“Everywhere,” Ganondorf hissed, “But first, there.” A thick finger pointed down from the top of the ridge to a tiny, broken down thorp of a town.

Even from this distance it was clear that the windblown wooden buildings were barely holding together, a dusty main “street” paved only by the beating of hooves to pack down the dirt and mud. Large signs with thick, bold lettering labeled each building bluntly, “TAVERN,” or “BARBER.” Tired, broken wanderers meandered in alleyways, smoking cigarettes and wearing wide brimmed hats.

Though, there was some odd flare in the city. Something was out of place. Horses were mounted up besides speeder bikes, kerosene street lamps fueled by plasma coils. Some of those tired wanderers were packing laser pistols.

“Interesting place,” Sinestro said flatly. “How are we going to explain our little friend?” he tilted his head toward the blonde.

“We found her out here, saved her.” A malicious grin spread. He waved his hand aimlessly in the air, “Once we have a place established we can secure her and do whatever else we need. For now,” he spurred the horse, “We go to town.”

[Ganondorf]

The dry earth crunched under Sinestro’s boots as he moved towards the town. When he noticed that his companion had yet to spur his horse onward, however, the red-skinned man stopped and looked back at Ganondorf. The Gerudo was leaning forward in the saddle, his bulk inadvertently shading Eighteen as he stared towards the town.

“Unlike yourself, Ganondorf, I’m not used to the heat and sun yet. I’d like to have a roof over my head before I dry up out here.”

“Wait…” Ganondorf replied, frowning as his thoughts churned. Of course, it had been years since he’d last felt the embrace of the desert sun, so he was faring little better than Sinestro, especially after the exertion of his battle with the woman laid across his lap. However, that wasn’t what had stopped the Gerudo in his tracks. No… it was a thought.

“We need to change our plans, Sinestro.”

The former Lantern scowled, striding over and glaring up at the taller man, “What?! Why?”

Ganondorf sighed, smiling a bit as he patted Eighteen’s bottom while addressing his compatriot, “Because of her. Perhaps you knew when exactly this woman began to eavesdrop on us, but I have little idea. That means she may have heard our plans. She’s obviously shown herself to be against them… so, the sensible thing would be to alter our plans so that she is once again in the dark about what we’re trying to do here.”

“No. The sensible thing would be to bury her in the desert and let her die,” Sinestro retorted with heat in his voice.

Patient as always, at least on the surface, Ganondorf chuckled and continued, “No. If this Omni is to be believed, then killing her would be a temporary respite at best, and would undoubtedly make her more of an enemy than she already is.”

“However,” the Gerudo said with a sly grin and twinkle in his eye, straightening out to his full height, “a wise man keeps his enemies close, so as to better keep tabs on them. And that’s what we shall do, Sinestro.”

The korugaran scowled, giving the idea a moment of thought before shaking his head, “If we don’t get rid of her, she’ll still be in a position to foil our plans.”

In response, Ganondorf gave his ‘friend’ a hearty laugh, reaching down to clap the man on the shoulder, “And that is why we split up, before anyone in that town has a chance to see us together. In doing so, she’ll only have the opportunity to hinder one of us in our conquest, leaving the other free to do as he pleases. And as I am the one to have bested her in combat, I feel it’s prudent that I keep her with me. We shall head into the town, where I will give all appearances of being a model citizen. I’ll work my way into the good graces of whoever is in charge there, and once I gain the support of the populace, that is when I become the leader of that collection of squalid shacks. In the meantime, you, my friend, will begin gathering the forces that undoubtedly besiege that town. Use that fear you hold so dear, and become their new warlord.”

Nodding to himself, Ganondorf rubbed his chin as he finished, “And when both our plans have come to fruition, we will consolidate our power. This... ‘Verse’, I suppose it’s called, will be ours. And from there... everything.”

Laughing, Ganondorf gave voice to his satisfaction as Sinestro looked on coldly.

“If we do this, we’ll certainly end up having to fight each other from time to time. What then?”

With a snort, Ganondor replied, “Then we give our audience a show. It’ll be glorious, and they will love and fear our power, even when they end in stalemates. And, of course, it will be our best chance to converse about our plans without needing to worry about spies. “

“And her?” Sinestro gestured to Eighteen as he spoke.

“Her? Well, she’ll obviously love me. I’ll spin a story of treachery and falling out, placing our ‘heinous’ acts squarely upon your shoulders, I’m afraid. And though she’ll be suspicious, at first, my actions in the town will dissolve those suspicious quickly enough. By the time she realises her folly, it will be too late to stop our plans, and she’ll either need to join us, or be doomed to failure. I believe she’ll be wise enough to choose the former, despite her moral quandaries.”

Finally, Sinestro nodded his approval to the plan, looking out to the desert.

“It may be a long way before I find the bandits, Ganondorf.”

Shoulders slumping, and letting out a sigh, Ganondorf concentrated once again. He focused his being, and this strange Omnilium, shaping a form from seeming nothingness. Minutes passed before he was finished, but when the Gerudo finally completed his project, a dusky camel stood beside Sinestro, laden with food and water for a day or two, if rationed correctly.

“This will be the last time I provide you with assistance in this manner, Sinestro. I’m neither your errand-boy, as I said before, nor your benefactor. If you wish us to be equals, you need to learn to stand on your own.”

As he spoke, Ganondorf knew he was upsetting his companion, as the man’s eyes grew heated as they glared up at him. Still, he continued.

“Find those we seek and have them cater to you from now on, man. And when next I see you, I expect to find a man who needs not rely on my good graces to survive out here. Only then will I call you equal.”

Those last words said, Ganondorf moved off towards the town, Eighteen’s limp form still laid across his lap.