A/N: Please note that this story is in the process of being rewritten. The chapter you see here will be deleted shortly with a revamped version exploring a more generous background. If everything goes well, the new update will be posted tonight.
Hello, everyone, and welcome to my contribution to the Zelda fanfiction table.
Before we begin, let me introduce you to the story with a brief summary: The demons are plotting for a full out war against the humans, unless they are willing to agree to their terms for settling peace. However, doing so would require more than just an alliance between the two, and Hylia's mortal is well aware of this. As per usual, Link is sent out to try and stop the demons before the brutal assault can encompass. He will not only strive to accomplish the mission the Goddess reborn has sent him on. As current, governing ruler of the demon realm, the demon lord is also wary of the hero's journey. With his persuasive measures, he will do anything in his power to get Link to side with him, even if that means taking away things very close to the young malle. However, the hero will come to find that not everything is as it seems...especially when it comes to the lying tongue of Ghirahim.
This fic is broadened to most of the Zelda universes out there; as of such, expect to see many characters that were not included in the game Skyward Sword. Also, this will be a MidnaxLink pairing, as well as some PipitxMidna, PipitxKarane, slight ZeLink...and perhaps a bit of GhirahimxLink. Nothing that would make it M rated.
Before we begin, I would love to thank the wonderful SkywardDiamond for stepping in, and helping this story along its merry way. Thank you so much Sky! I LOVES YOU! I know you must grow tired at times of the numerous errors which slip into each chapter. I appreciate you taking the time to correct each and every one.
FYI to all my readers- I usually stick a little update notice on my profile when I have or will post a new chapter. It's sad to say that I think my profile gets faster updates than this here fic. Anyways...
Disclaimer: I don't own the Legend of Zelda.
The Rose
The wind was quiet this evening.
Silent with the atmosphere of a polished sunset just hovering above the ground, his presence was lost to the solitude of the green foliage. The trees did not stir as he materialized from the shadows, wary of his movements, as though a single breath would alert the unwelcome being's approach. A tentative, silver boot graced the harshness of evening twilight. Its counterpart soon followed, carrying a slender body with it.
Faron Woods was unusually still tonight, as if frozen in time, much to his surprise. But the otherwise nonchalant difference did not slip by him, unguarded.
Too quiet, he thought to himself.
The disruptive silence immediately drew his attention. Something or someone was also awakening to the fleeting day with the scent of life in his nostrils.
The air shifted, almost as if in agreement to the looming, deaf woods. Eyes became narrowed, a hand subconsciously tracing the royal belt adorning his waist. His fingers danced over the luminous jewel on his hip, the epitome of a connection shattered, but not lost.
A sword doth not a sovereign make, he mused quietly to himself, hands folding tightly behind his back. The words last shared with his master had been...enlightening, to say the least. Truthfully, he had felt the bridled wrath from so long ago begin to overflow as it trickled down from a rim of restraint. The rage was finally evolving from a hatred that never fosook the king's heart. And being the demon's delegate, Ghirahim was subject to all of it.
The crimson gem pulsed with an ethereal glow. The demon king called for his servant's presence.
An irritable sigh escaped the pale skinned demon. It appeared that his own plans would have to be temporarily set aside.
He closed his eyes, and breathed in a scent of the refreshing air. It promised nothing, just as the insolent pests of the surface did. But soon...soon they woud be on their knees, begging for the day of judgment which would end their petty lives. If only they would meet with his straightforward requests; his own race wouldn't have to jeopardize themselves in a formidable war.
Bloodshed was partial to the demon lord's liking, of this he was aware. However, he did not favor another demon's blood as it shared the same origins with his. It was only by the Goddess herself and her people that he could indulge himself properly.
The hero was well acquainted with this disturbing fascination of the demon lord.
The wind softly returned from its slumber and gently caressed the mantle shaded of red wine that the entity bore on firm shouldes, stirring its ripples like a disturbance in water. The dying sun caught a glimpse of turquoise, a diamond earring that hung from a pointed, right ear, and a brief glimmer of light reflected from the smooth surface.
A flicker of a smile tugged on white lips. Memories flew through the demon's mindful eye as he dwelled on a certain, green clad warrior.
An exquisite character that boy possessed. His determination was uncanny, borderline ludicrous, but his blood was what drove the demon near mad with lust. Their last encounter had hardly stanched his thirst to drive the human to the brink of death. He wanted to drown the sky child in his very own blood, watch the effervescent life dwindle to but a shred in those coals of blue. The sinful craving that the demon lord garnered from the human's suffering was absolutely titillating, and he wanted to be the one to squash it from the human's eyes.
He reflected on what had transpired upon their little tousle in the Skyview temple. How far the hero had come since that day.
The Skyloftian had shown a surprising amount of valor during their first battle. the demon found it oddly fond, the way he had tried to shakily stand on his feet. His efforts had been met in vain, though, as the demon exerted the slightest bit of pressure from his weapon into the boy's ribs. His ebony rapier had gracefully slid into the side of his enemy's stomach, lapping up the blood that poured from the delicate wound cut into his body.
But no... The human was not his enemy. He was far too young, barely an adult and much more likened to a child. A child amongst the company of an ancient history of a well-concealed world. He was no enemy, and the demon had no intention of turning him into one.
In the midst of all their meetings, Ghirahim's magic had served as a veil of protection from those vigil eyes many times after he had bested the boy and supposedly left him long behind. It was only until the hero was wavering back on his own two boots that the demon fully teleported away. Each meeting was imminent, he could sense it. That oh-so taunting thread of fate had wound around both of them so tightly, it was nearly visible. He could sense the tie between them becoming tighter. It was only a matter of time before fate crossed their two parallel lives.
And cross they did, again and again until it seemed as if there had never been a time before without their constant banter. Seems like the little hero was quite the talker when provoked, and Ghirahim found himself relishing in those moments. Their last encounter had been left in the air, the possibilities of what could have happened weighing heavily in the balance between them. Ghirahim could sense the hero was being drawn to him. Only time stood in the way now.
Turning back to where he had materialized from, the demon raised his hand in a snap. A shift in the air froze the movement, however, and he halted at the voice of the wind. His head cocked ever so curiously to the side, immortal ears zoning in on a sound that would be lost to any human.
It was the presence he sensed earlier, and it was active.
A chiming array of ephemeral diamonds took the demon's place. The wind whistled as it blew by, almost as if it was soaring to a certain destination in the illuding Faron woods.
...
Link plucked the strings of the golden harp with mindless effort. Finding such peace on the surface was a rarity, and the Skyloftian was cherishing the moment as much as he could. The Goddess Sword lay placidly on the plush grass next to him; little could be said about the spirit residing within the blade.
As he had quickly adapted to from the start of his mission, Link ignored the negative vibes drifting like a fog from the blade. He already knew the cause of the sword spirit's agitation, and it wasn't from lack of refilled heart potions.
Pausing briefly, Link made a mental note to restock upon his arrival in Skyloft. He didn't need to further invigorate the already elongated lecture that was bound to vere his way from his flustered companion.
He smiled at the thought of her reprimanding him in that whimsical, monotone voice of hers.
Closing his tired eyes, Link began a graceful rendition of the Ballad of the Goddess, reducing his soft voice to a gentle hum. The woods were so beautiful this time of day. The Skyloftian was not known for a tendency of following up on the evening's greeting. However, sleep had become a rarity ever since the start of his journey. It was a gift to be able to fall asleep on the cruel, unforgiving ground of the surface. But oftentimes, with sleep came nightmares.
And so, Link hugged the gifted harp to his chest and watched the show unfold before his eyes in the painted hues of the sky.
Link knew full well that he needed to recover his rest up in his home above the clouds, even if that meant certain dreams would plague his mind. His body was absolutely worn out from the lack of proper care. A full eight hours behind closed eyelids sounded enticing. In reality, he was aware of the depleting stock in his pouch. The call of Skyloft tugged at Link's heartstrings, but for now, he could only sit idle amidst the green vegetation. It was all his blistered feet would allow.
He hummed softly in his throat as his fingers swept along the tune of the song. It was a fortunate thing that he had already played a stringed instrument in the past. While it had been several years ago, the Skyloftian favored a little expertise as opposed to no knowledge whatsoever. He probably had Hylia to thank for that, too, he supposed.
As Link neared the finale of the song, a delicate brush of soft velvet slid alongside his face. It fell with a plop in his lap. Instinct naturally stepped in, and the hero couldn't help but flinch and shy away from the unexpected touch. Blue eyes blinked down, confused, at the solitary, white rose now lying innocently on cream colored pants.
Zelda's harp was slowly set down on the opposite side of the Goddess sword. Bewilderment coated Link's face. He reached forward cautiously as he wrapped his fingers around the stem of the beautiful flower. His thumb slid over one of the petals. It consisted of the most fragile, but ethereal material he had ever caressed, the rose bending at the slightest touch.
A petal accidentally tore at his touch, and Link felt a sadness wash over him at the disrupted beauty of the flower. In a way, he suspected it represented his own life and mission. Just a single error or false turn could end in his and Zelda's life tearing apart.
And now, here I am, getting poetic all of a sudden for no reason at all. Goddess forbid, he thought dismissively.
He hesitantly buried his nose in the flower, eyes shutting immediately at the unexpected whiff of home. The essence of this rose smelled remarkably like Zelda, almost in comparison to the sailcloth she had worn and given him that one day.
Link breathed in heavily, the scent like the heady perfume of his friend's embrace. His lips twitched upward into a smile as he pictured her behind closed eyelids, twirling affectionately in her magenta dress as she beamed back at him, golden braids following the colorful nature she vibrated constantly. He pictured the two of them, sitting alone on an island in a planned escape from their studies. They would watch the world fade to black around them, and even when they snuck back into Skyloft on their Loftwings, they would still be smiling and laughing like mad because absolutely nothing could ruin their joy.
That had all been mere days before Zelda was kidnapped, brutally assaulted midair and hurled beneath the clouds. And yet, even after plummeting hundreds of feet through clouds and sky, she still managed to brush herself off and continue on her mission unscathed. It was a mystery as much as a curse, and Link despised the Goddess for it. How far he had fallen from his daily praise to Hylia, and to hate her so unequivocally was almost terrifying. In some ways he felt as though he were cheating his way through a religion he had once obeyed doggedly at its heels.
Link took another deep inhale, only to realize that just as swiftly as it had come, the scent was gone. Replaced with something more heavy, the rose gave off the fragrance of an earthen odor, a swirl of conceit and intrigue emanating from the rose like a dangerous aura. It smelled intoxicating and fresh, and reminded Link of past swords clashing against one another.
Gasping, Link's blue orbs flung open wide. He stared, slack jawed, as the pristine whiteness of the rose slowly faded in a useless wilt, only to reveal a deep, rich black hiding underneath. The stubs on the stem of the rose morphed into healthy thorns, pricking one of his fingers.
Link gaped at the sudden transformation, the hand holding the delicate petals now stiff in fear. Only did time begin again when the flower disintegrated into a flourish of shadowy diamonds, drifting away on the beckoning of the wind.
Eyes wide with apprehension of the known, the hero stayed in place. His mind screamed at him to move, but his arms remained locked, fingers grasping air. A nearby chuckle blew into his pointed ears. A breath damp with warmth seemed to trickle down the right side of his neck.
Link forced his feet to propel his body upward, sword clumsily snatched in hand, legs cramping slightly from resting, and heart pounding viciously. He backed away from the one being he could sense but not see, blue pupils dashing this way and that, as if he would be able to find his tormentor in the gathering dark.
...
He observed in amusement as the boy had suddenly darted to his feet, eyes wide. The blond waved his sword in hand, several paces away, searching vainly for the single deliverer of the rose; the only one who could have pulled such a trick as this. The demon merely giggled to himself as he drifted away from the flustered youth, eager to resume their fateful encounter as soon as he could.
Yes, he definitely was going to enjoy taming the sky child.
Thank you for reading. Reviews are deeply appreciated. Also, special thanks to all the readers who already have! Love you all.