Gathering Dust [OPEN]

Dark halls echoed with the sound of once familiar footsteps in the broken castle the witch walking them had once called home, and now she would have to call it such again. With Hollow Bastion's castle collapsed into skeletal remains and The Castle That Never Was far out of her reach with the Nobodies that inhabited it still lurking in the Dakrness she was left with no other castle to come too. 

Dust stirred with her footsteps rising in motes to give her appearance an even more sinister edge if that were possible. Her wandering took her toward the throne room, even as Diablo circled overhead to make sure that nothing was in her path. She expected to see no one though, the Princess now had her happy ending and though the Heroes of the Light knew she was still out there Aurora was admittedly her last concern at this time, instead she was more focused on moving ahead, taking new ground, and most of all finding a better base of opperations to the eyesore she had left behind here. 

She paused in one of the wider chambers, listening to the echoing of her footsteps with a slight frown, something felt off in her former home. Diablo's crow echoed toward her, warning her that her suspicions were correct. 

Maleficent wasn't the only one in these ruins. 

Dank. Dusty. Dark. Deserted.

The shattered remnants of what had once, no doubt, been a mighty castle reminded Ganondorf of what he suspected his own home must now look like, if it remained standing at all. It might have been a somewhat depressing sight, had such things bothered him in the least. But as it was...it only served to remind him that, while the Triforce of Power might have made him everlasting, the same could not be said for those things he took for his own.

He took a moment to ponder his presence here, in this castle's skeleton...he hadn't had any intention of coming to such a broken, desolate place. He hadn't had any intention of doing much of anything, if his memory was accurate. It was infuriating to admit, but...he had lost to that accursed brat and that Sword. A resounding series of overwhelming failures one after another, all thanks to the meddling of that blasted hero and the sword...and the Princess's interference hadn't helped matters.

His only solace was that, at least wherever he had ended up now, that thrice-cursed Master Sword wasn't here to be a thorn in his side. He would once more return to his rightful place...

The sudden call of a crow broke the gerudo king from his dark ruminations. Turning his attention outward, he scanned the surroundings intently, leaning forward in his perch on the dusty throne he had 'borrowed' for the time. It would seem the area was not entirely desolate, after all...

How fortuitous.

After moments of nothing else moving in the castle she began to walk again, her staff on the stone echoing around her ominously as she approached what used to be her throne. Memories of her minions running about like the fools they were, dancing around bon fires when they, and she too, was sure that she had been victorious in keeping Aurora's heart captive forever. Now it was just a shell of what it had been, and it contained two people one who belonged and another who didn't. 

When Maleficent emerged into her former chamber she found herself glaring up at the throne, occupied by another who was certainly not from this world. Green flames lept up at the doors as she started to climb the stairs, staring down this man who may very well oppose her. She isn't quite sure yet. 

"You seem to be sitting in my throne," Her voice is as cold as chipped ice, and her staff is striking the steps much harder than neccesary,"But you couldn't have know it was mine, could you." 

She pauses at the top of the stairs, staring at him as if she expects him to move. And she does too, only one could sit in the throne here and it would be her or it would be no one. She had determined that long, long ago before she had even concieved of her plans to do with the Princesses of light. 

"Now, who are you, and how did you find this place?" When she speaks this time her tone is slightly more friendly, but just enough to allow the other in thinking she might not try to kill him this day if the answer pleases her. 

He did not have to wait all that long before he received his first true sign of confirmation: it was distant, yes, but within the emptiness of the blasted and desolate castle he could hear the echoing tap of footfalls, accompanied by the much louder, clearer sound of something....else striking the stone floors in time with the strides. Perhaps a walking stick or staff of some sort... It did seem somehow fitting for the locale. And as the sound only grew more and more clear and definite, Ganondorf's keen ears soon picked out the truth behind the noises, confirming his initial guess.

He brought one arm up, resting his elbow on the arm of the borrowed throne and perching his chin on his upraised fist, eyes locked on the entryway to the room the sounds grew ever more clear from. And within moments he was rewarded with the sight of the other entrant into the lovely castle's scene. His expression was impassive and neutral, looking more like a statue than anything, and he reacted to the flames leaping up at the doors with only the slightest upcurl of eyebrow in a curious expression. When the woman spoke, her icy tone heralding her disapproval of something -- perhaps Ganondorf occupying her throne, perhaps his mere presence in what he could only assume was her castle, or perhaps at everything in general, it was very hard to accurately say -- Ganondorf merely returned a level stare for several long seconds before he finally moves, straightening his posture and placing one hand on his knee. "This throne is yours, is it, my good lady...?" His eyebrows knitted together in a very convincing mask of genuine apology as he added, "I was unaware, please do forgive me." Reaching down to the dusty ground, he took hold of the sword that had once been used in his failed execution, still tucked into its rather plain-looking sheath, and hefted it up, planting it on the ground much like a staff or cane, and used it as a support to haul his tremendous frame up into a standing posture.

He stood still for a moment, as if sore and unused to moving with any quickness, much like the old man he seemed to be, before he stepped aside, vacating the throne and coming to a stop a respectful handful of paces away before turning back, sinking into a half bow as he gestured at the freed throne, his own yellow-eyed stare bearing down on the apparent ruler of the castle from within his continued unreadable facade.

"As for who I am, and how I found my way here..." His expression finally cracked, a scowl flitting across his features, his free hand going to the glowing scar in his chest. "....I am Ganondorf Dragmire...the king of Gerudo people and the rightful rule of all of Hyrule..." His scowl twisted into a grimace before his hand dropped from the scar back to his side, curled into a loose fist. "I was struck down by a meddling hero with help from sources he did not understand....and fell into darkness. When I returned to my senses, I found myself here."