A\N: So, I'm bored but am in a good mood. This is a gift fic for my sis Forest Princess, who has to be the biggest Nabooru fan ever. She's a real life Gerudo and I love her. For you sis!

~Moon White Rose

~...~

Seven years. It's a long time to think, especially when nearly all your mind is under someone else's control and only a tiny part of yourself still answers to you.

As if he would ever get all of me. I would never belong fully to anyone. Sure, I may have to do his bidding. Yeah, I'm sitting here motionless, rotting in a tin can.

I may have to call him King and Master, and other garbage on the occasions he comes, but no matter what, at the end of the day, even if I have to do it with one brain cell I will answer to myself, and myself only.

The day that I, Nabooru, the great Gerudo thief, the Desert Queen, do otherwise, is the day I die by my own hands and sword.

I vowed long ago that no one would own me; that I would be free to rule myself. I also vowed seven years ago to not go insane and let those hags and their pig slime king steal my humanity when they captured me and stuck me in this Iron Knuckle ruse.

Now I sit here, day in day out, never tiring, never getting hungry or thirsty, or hot or cold, or even aging.

I just exist, the thoughts of my most inner self being my only lifeline at not surrendering completely and becoming yet another one of his mindless puppets.

So every day I think, and think, and... surprise, surprise, think. I've come to many conclusions, some better than others.

One, I make very good company for myself. Two, I was an idiot for being so bold those seven years ago when I thought I could kill him all by myself. Three, I completely despise Ganondorf, that vain, swaggering piece of Redead waste.

Looking back on it, I really realized he was bad from the day his mother had him. Maybe it was the way Koume and Kotake raised him, his personality, or a bad mixture of both.

Subtle little things- a scorpion in a bed here, a dead animal in the courtyard there- all little hints that one day he would grow into a sick, twisted monster that would run his own race into the grown just so he could have nice clothes and a fat gut.

Well, he was succeeding and I hated that fat gut of his for it. How dare he abandon his own people, his sisters, and still expect us to serve!

Ha! The rest may follow him if they choose, but not me. He does not care for us, and I don't care for him; the only way I would care about him is if he were dead.

Another way I pass my time, I envision numerous ways of him biting the dust. All are fun and make me smile. I am not really one for torture, but he has crossed the line; he did long ago and on more than one occasion.

He crossed it when he left us, when he turned our image from thieves who steal to get by to cold, heartless murderers.

He crossed it at every innocent life he destroyed, and every infant he killed while the parents watched.

He crossed my path for the last time when he gave me the choice of being his brainwashed slave or his bed girl.

Though it was stupid, I couldn't resist. I answered with my foot wounding his pride and after a searing slap I was stuck in this room which I have now been in for seven years. I don't know how I have such a good concept of time or what goes on around me, but I'm thankful for it.

It just means I've had seven years to think, ponder, and wonder. Seven years to prepare mentally for the day I will be free and get revenge. I won't do it alone though; never again will I make that mistake.

I may answer only to myself, but I know I can't do this alone. I'm fine with that though. Surly there must be others who want him dead. I'll find them, no matter what and I'll do my part to help kill that rotting piece of Skulltula slime or I'll die trying.

First thing first though, I have to get this curse to break. It will, one day it will and wh-.

Movement. The door, I hear it open, but he doesn't approach. A young boy clothed in emerald green does, and for the first time in seven years I feel as if my hearts singing.

It's singing with happiness at the freedom that must be coming, but yelling my own personal war cry as well. Soon I will be free, and when that time comes, Ganondorf better say his final prayers, because I maybe won't make him pay. I intend to.

~...~

A\N: So what do think? I hope you like it sis. Love you! Please review everyone; I just love it when you do!

~Moon White Rose