Jinni wears the black the way another woman might wear a wound: back straight, eyes forward, face proud, but there’s no masking the limp. She catches Aliza’s eye as she passes, and the latter keeps her face stiff, offering no support but hiding her disappointment as well.

Jinni is young, she showed so much promise. She should have known better than to trust the witches.

"Jinni of the Black," says the King, his unfamiliar voice ringing around the room. It strikes a different note than their last king, like a babbling brook compared to an avalanche. His accent makes it worse, highlights the differences, highlights his own foreignness. Highlights just how badly they failed in their Oath to She who had entrusted him to them. "You have been accused of High Treason against the King of the Gerudo, according to Gerudo Law. It has been brought before me that you were an accomplice in the recent attempts of the Witches to kidnap and either kill or corrupt me."

His voice is steadier than she expected, but he has trouble controlling his expression. His face is not the stone it should be, and the entire room can see the ghost of the visions the Witches cursed him with dancing behind his eyes.

The Sheikah standing on his left shifts his weight, just so. It’s a nonchalant gesture, not meant to draw attention, but the King seems to draw strength from his presence. Aliza is unable to prevent the sour curl of her lips. A Sheikah has no business in this room, being witness to this event. And a Gerudo King has no business relying on one for strength.

Except that the Sheikah have done more to protect him than his own people have, so what right have they to complain or correct him?

"Have you anything to say for yourself?"

Aliza has warned Jinni before that her pride will be the death of her, but still she stands there and faces him and says nothing. Because there’s nothing to say, nothing she CAN say, except to acknowledge what she did. But even now she struggles to give voice to her own failures.

Indiga nudges her with her spear, and whispers something only Jinni can hear. Jinni grits her teeth.

"Nothing," she says, "except that I accept whatever punishment you would lay upon me."

The entire room is so quiet, they can all hear the King draw in a deep breath and let it out again slowly.

"In that case, Jinni of the Black shall cease to exist," he says. The answer everyone was expecting. She can feel the entire room settling into the pronouncement, but apparently their new King is not done. "You shall instead be Jinni of the Red." A startled silence greets this pronouncement, and he barrels ahead into it, heedless of the stunned stares of the women in the room. "You are stripped of the title Elite and the uniform of the White. You will once again have to prove your worth before regaining your status. But you WILL have that chance."

Aliza stares at him, mouth agape. When his face offers no answers, she turns to Rue, standing on his right. The old woman is not surprised. Her face is carefully and appropriately neutral. But she catches Aliza’s eye and offers her a slight nod to confirm that he is serious, and the judgement will stand.

The King turns away from Jinni to address the rest of them. “I forgo the Death sentence usually inherent in a crime such as Jinni’s for one reason. What was treason in action, was fidelity in intent. Jinni believed that I was a threat to you, her people. She was wrong, and for this she is punished. But she was not treasonous. Her loyalty to her sisters and their safety is commendalbe, though I hope in the future she will exercise better judgement in her decision, and perhaps trust her sisters a little more than she did.”

Aliza stares at him, replaying the words in her head to analyze and understand them. The judgement is unprecedented. This is a clear-cut case of treason. The violation of Jinni’s oaths. She cannot recall a single other instance of a crime of this magnitude being met with a demotion instead of execution or exile.

Because…because she thought she was defending her sisters…?

"In addition to being stripped of her title," adds the King above the murmuring of the crowd, and Aliza’s face settles back into stone. Ah. Here it is. He’s going to settle for exile, and— "Jinni will be required to requite her role in my kidnapping by acting as a bodyguard for myself and the Ambassador on our journey. A punishment equal to the crime. You aided those who wished to harm me, and now you will hinder them."

Aliza stares openly at him. They all do.  He runs his eyes over the crowd, taking in their reactions, meeting their eyes, and hiding nothing in his own. He isn’t sure, they can see it on his face. He isn’t sure if he’s going to regret the sentence. He isn’t sure if they’re going to accept it. He isn’t sure about any part of it. But he IS sure that whatever comes of it, he’s made the right decision. He will not go back on it. And she’s surprised to see that glint of steel in his eyes.

A weight she’s been carrying in her breast suddenly lightens and expands and flutters new wings against her ribcage. Perhaps, she realizes slowly, they’re wrong about what his existence means. Perhaps they’ve read the signs wrong.

Perhaps…

"Oh my Goddess," murmurs a woman behind her, aghast, "why weren’t we betting on this?"

***

"No," Amplissa corrects her immediately, "I do NOT like him. I think he is weak and immature and a liability for all of us. But if I don’t go on HIS team, I have to lead the OTHER team, and you’re not ON the other team. This isn’t about him, it’s about you."

"My mistake," Aliza replies demurely.

"Just because I don’t like him," Amplissa insists days later, wiping away tears and struggling not to start laughing again every time her mind wanders back to the story she’s repeating, "doesn’t mean I can’t think a funny story was funny if he’s the one telling it."

"Of course, of course," Aliza agrees. "How silly of me."

"I don’t have to like somebody," Amplissa points out a couple of weeks later, wincing as Aliza dabs at the cut under her eye, "to defend their honour against a baseless attack by a person who doesn’t know what they’re talking about. I defended your honour LONG before I even liked you."

"You loved me from the moment you saw me," Aliza points out, and that Amplissa can’t argue.

"Oh," Amplissa cries, too loud and too slurred, the month after that, "so now if you decide to stay up all night drinking and playing stupid Hylian card games with someone, it means you like them?"

"Generally," Aliza points out, a little slurred herself, "that is what that means."

"Nabooru was there too, I don’t like her."

"Yes you do. You like her a lot."

"Oh. You were there. Do I like you?"

"No, you love me."

"Right, that’s not like."

"That’s more than like. That’s the…the likiest like."

"Oh. Well whatever. He’s all right, I guess."

"Issy."

The mound of blankets shifted and grunted a response.

"Issy, come on. You can't stay in there forever."

The blankets mumbled something rude sounding.

Aliza sighed and got out of the chair. She moved over to the pile and climbed on top of it, ignoring the sounds of protest within. "You know," she mused, leaning more of her weight than was strictly required on her elbow and whatever piece of soft flesh was underneath it. "I could have sworn you told me you weren't religious. I've got more reason to be upset than you do, but you don't see me acting like I've escaped from the nursery." She took the edge of the blanket between her fingers and pulled it gently down and away from Amplissa's face.

The other Gerudo was staring at her with an expression caught somewhere between hurt and anger, and Aliza immediately regretted her light tone. "It's not about religion," said Amplissa.

Aliza shifted her weight off of the other woman's organs and slid down beside her on the blankets instead. "Then what is it about?"

"It's about--," tried Amplissa, but she stopped frustrated. "It's about--!" She tried to pull the blankets up again but Aliza had them firmly pinned underneath her. She gestured inarticulately for a moment, attempting to convey her thoughts through motion, but when that inevitably failed - as it always did - she managed to scrounge up enough words to say: "If the Wind doesn't want our service anymore, why doesn't She just give us all back our sons and be done with us." The offence in her face faded under a lost and weary expression.  She shook her head and buried her face in Aliza's shoulder. "I've had enough of Hers."

Aliza didn't respond for a long moment. She curled her arm over Amplissa and idly ran her hand over the familiar tapestry of old battles carved into her back. When she spoke, it was softly, hesitant to voice the words, but sure of them. "I think She knows that. And I think She's sorry."

"Sorry," Amplissa replied bitterly. "So sorry she sent us a joke of a King. He's as good as Hylian."

"What she sent us," Aliza replied firmly, "is a message."

"'I'm breaking up with you in the worst way possible?'"

"'I realize that I have not held up my end of the deal,'" Aliza corrected her. "'I realize that I failed you. And I realize that things cannot ever be again what they were.'"

"How do you get all of that out of that foolish boy?"

"Because he's so different. He's too different. It's like She sat down and went, 'how can I make it clear that I realize the fault is mine?' And she sent us a son so different from past sons there's no possible way we could think she doesn't realize something needs to change.  Except for the particularly obtuse among us." She pulled her fingers through Amplissa's ponytail to diffuse any offence at the comment. "Link is unlike any King we've ever had before, and I believe he'll be unlike any King we'll ever have again. Because he isn't meant to be a King, he's meant to be a message. A sign."

"I don't like him." The statement was petulant and stubborn.

"You don't have to. There is no obligation to accept an apology just because it's offered. But between you and me, I think She means it." She shifted back so she could consider Amplissa's expression. "Jinni's judgement was today. That's why I actually came to find you."

Amplissa's face went dark with a collection of mixed emotions. "I never liked her. And she did something stupid. But she was a good woman, and it's a loss all the same."

"I agree," Aliza said. "Except she's not dead."

Amplissa didn't react for a moment, processing the words and their meaning. She lifted herself onto her elbow and blinked at Aliza. "How is she not dead? She should be dead." She scowled, affronted. "She ran?"

"No," Aliza said. "He pardoned her. Dropped her back to the red, then made her his personal bodyguard for some away mission he's got it in his head is really important."

Amplissa stared at her. "I know all of those words, but I can't make sense of them in that order. I need you to try again."

"That's the order they go in," Aliza replied. "You're going to have to manage."

"But why would he--how COULD he--if I were him, I would have killed her."

"But he's not you," Aliza answered with a slight smile. "Or Ganon." She pushed herself up and slid out of the tangle of blankets and limbs. "Our new King will be gone shortly, for a few days at least. Perhaps, if you are still unsure, you might make a Pilgrimage to the Spirit Temple and ask Her what Her intentions are yourself."

Amplissa gave her a knowing look. "This wasn't about me at all was it," she said. "This was about you not wanting me to embarass you."

"You've already embarassed me," Aliza replied matter-of-factly. "I would definitely like you to stop." She softened. "But I would also like you to be able to find your peace again. There are many reasons I am unhappy with you hiding in this room."

"And you think I'm going to find it in the Spirit Wastes?"

"I think for a problem that had nothing to do with religion," Aliza replied, "all of your complaints had an awful lot to do with a deity."

"All right," Amplissa said. "I'll go. But if I don't get my answer, I'm coming back here to punch him in the face, and let the seas take me."