There was some tension within the army of Hyrule.
None of it was what had become of their forces in the desert, or the time-traveling notions ever present around the soldiers as they marched on a floating island of legend. The generals were precise and determined, their enemy devious and clever, and bands and brotherhoods among knights and allies held moral high.
It was their newest ally. Specifically, his attitude towards their Hero, Link.
Through oddness and happenstance, the demon lord joined ranks with Zelda's army. He was a powerful foe, fearsome and quick, and even with the Hylian guards fighting on his same side, they had the stab of fear that his demonic magic would turn fast as his daggers into their backs. He led groups of them into battle, sometimes remaining in the keep and other times strutting into battle alone, coming back bathed in blood, murmuring about his stained apparel while waving a finger, ordering to move to the next stronghold. The rumors of the demon lord being a weapon tempered for battle were held true. Each whisper of the demon's incredible power was proven in front of them, or when the demon himself blinked into existence among their settlements, setting their gossip straight with his own words.
"The captain has said he is a weapon like that blue woman from the Skyhold. A sword forged with black magic."
"I've seen Darknut captains swing blades at him and have them bounce off, and spark like struck with stone."
"Is he demon or steel?"
"Something in between!" The white haired demon appeared lounging on the log next to them. "Your words are flattering, but none the less, true to the most part from an imbecile's observation." The demon sword conjured his magic into the flame in their camp, the images and colors waving erratically as he gesticulated along with his words. He retold the fires of Demise and the rise of the demon kingdom, namely his achievements as Lord against the goddess's soldiers, such as themselves.
The Hylian army ceased campfire speaking of their strange commander.
Conversations among the generals were not for the public ear, and yet from within the tents, his voice could cut through the air. Every drop of distaste left like a wicked spell off his serpent's tongue. Every ounce of nonchalance was evident through a light tone that should not be said towards the queen of the kingdom.
And then the chosen hero, was a different reason.
More often than not, while Ghirahim commanded sectors of the forces, overseeing them was the green clad hero. Blond, smaller than the rest of them, and no longer faceless under a plated helmet, wearing the traditional garb of the hero, the knights pledged loyalty to him along with their queen. Meanwhile, the demon lord talked down to him physically (though he was definitely taller, he didn't have to crouch as though speaking with a child!) and verbally. Each order was accompanied with a loud sigh or roll of eyes. The fairy over the shoulder of the boy bouncing around them was meant to give pep, though she diverted herself from the demon lest she be clapped between his iron hands again. He had no patience for pests, and whether he meant Proxi or Link was debatable within the troupes.
"Of course the central keep holds the commander, why bother sending us off to the others when we just break down the walls around their leader?" One such night, Ghirahim had his arms folded over his chest, half bent to look the hero in the eyes. "Truly, your quest must be more to release as many of their soldiers into the open and slaughter your people, than being rid of the source. They are more mindless than your own kind. Cutting off the head of their operation would leave them begging to taste swift deaths by our blades!"
The hero's face remained neutral, raising his hands and an eyebrow to articulate his words. If he had any. The muted hero's scarf covered the deep wound from his throat that left him without a voice, and yet his hands could make his words for him.
This was the first reason the knights of Hyrule respected their commander. Needing not words to gain authority, and yet instilling companionship among them. His innocence was not tarnished by war, his young face reminding their forces of family back home. His disability was only hindering to those who chose not to learn what his symbols meant. Proxi now had been his booming voice as they rose to battle, but in their company it was polite to make the effort of conversation with their leader. Over campfires and maps the soldiers would learn new phrases to sign to their commander. The boy was not deaf, enjoying listening to their talk, but the soldiers he had been trained with made extra efforts to hold conversation within the dances of their fingers.
This was also the first cause for tension, the reason why even fearful for their own skins, the soldiers glowered at the demon lord's obvious disregard.
"I don't even need your army to take them out now. I could appear in the night and slit their throats. Taking their keeps means nothing but for your queen's ego and quota, something to tell her council of how there has been progress in the war." The demon snarled even as Link made his motions. Link rolled his eyes and gave a shrug. Ghirahim's scowl was deep even as he stood to his full height, leaving a laugh in his throat as he ran gloved fingers through his hair. Laughing at their general, smiling through mockery, and yet insults Link's ego while his own has grown larger than Hyrule itself.
"Of course, the chosen hero, blessed sky child, your orders come from bigger idiots, children marching in armor and directing men into death. Make no mistake, if I grow bored of this takeover, I'll have to kill that commander just to cease this playground scuffle."
Link only smiled, giving his thumbs up and ignoring Proxi's blue hue flickering to red as he moved back to his tent. The demon snapped his fingers and disappeared himself to his own chambers, kept far from the view of his glaring subordinates.
That led to the second cause for tension.
Ghirahim often kept to leading their group through a field, or recuperating within a stolen keep. As soldiers were bandaged and patrolling the fortress for new opponents, Ghirahim stood with a hip cocked against the wall, looking over his claws through those damned white gloves. Positively bored. The knights fought for a kingdom, for a family, for their brothers in arms. The demon fought for entertainment.
"Sir—" The Hylian captain turned as the red mantel of the demon began trailing out the doors to the keep.
"Won't be long, I have some anger to take out on a certain Dinolfos commander."
"Lady Lana will be here shortly to join us on our advance to the north."
"If she stops her useless skipping and traipsing around her enemies, then you shall go without me."
"General Link told us to avoid advancing on the central keep until the other threats are neutralized!" Now the captain's voice had raised, drawing the eyes of the rest of his wounded soldiers.
"He told you that, yes. But he hasn't said a word to me." The demon flashed a toothy smile, a snap of his fingers and diamonds blinked him out of existence. The thunderous curses filled the stone walls of the keep as soldiers waited for Lana's troops.
When Lana did arrive, the captain met with her.
"Where is Ghirahim?" The blue witch looked around the camp, and broken pieces of armor thrown to the ground next to bloodied bandages.
"He's decided to go towards the central keep."
Lana didn't need to say words for her face to skew in annoyance. It was not hard to find camaraderie within their own combined distaste for a commander. She folded her book under and arm and stood atop a glimmering cube of her magic, calling out to her troops outside the keep.
"Those wounded can rest here, those able, we're making a change of plans!"
On top of all this, there was tension within combat too.
They could not doubt Ghirahim held his own, stronger than waves of enemy monsters even as they surrounded him. A wide swipe of a demonic crafted blade took out a arc in front of him. Daggers danced around as he snapped his fingers. A twirl and a full body stab could knock over two shield moblins by force alone, though he needed to brush the bangs from his eyes each time, or blink out of the way of a swinging spear. There was something positively annoying to fight with such tactics. To snap and dance in place to the rhythm of enemy blood splattering to the soil. When the demon sword was struck, the soldier could feel the air grow thick, and often would look over and only see a ten foot tall obsidian blade piercing dozens of foes at once.
When there was a scoff and a soiled glove torn off his fingers, the commander's arms would turn color and strangle the life from the offending creature with sickening cracks. And when swarms finally gave full charge onto the demon lord, he lifted the floor beneath their hooves and crushed them under his own heels and diamond flooring. It often gave the whole floor of the keep a large gap in their forces, enough time for him to replace his gloves and lick the sanguine essence from the edge of his blade. And it would start all over again. Whenever he had a pattern, namely standing around, tapping a foot and snapping his fingers, throwing vitriol in a language the soldiers had no recognition of, they would blink and see more horrors of the demon's powers clear a room of foes.
He was efficient and merciless. He made it look easy. He craved combat he barely had to take a step into, while Hyrule's finest were brought to their knees, falling into blackness to the sound of snapping fingers and chuckles.
They really, really despised fighting at his side. And the demon lord despised them too, for getting in his way.
Back at the stronghold, wounds were being bandaged and annoyance was thick enough to cut with a knife. The demon lord had succeeded in defeating the Dinolfos as Lana had arrived, but that didn't stop her from scolding his disregard to their mission, and certainly didn't stop the vicious verbal gutting Ghirahim gave back to her. The soldiers were around their campfires, only the sound of the flames flickering carried through the camp after Lana retreated to her side of the stronghold, heels clicking on the stone as she marched angrily.
Link arrived soon, waving to his soldiers and his face fell as he saw the affect the discord had on them. He sat near his former training mates and captain, making motions with his hands. "What happened?"
The captain relayed the news with stoic professionalism, and at an eyebrow raise from the hero, the troops from across the camp threw in their input.
"-Nearly got us all killed!"
"-Disrespectful."
"Even Lady Lana is at the end of her rope."
Link looked amongst them and gave a warm smile, waving his hand as if blowing the debate into the wind.
"Sir, he deliberately berates you, speaks down to you, and ignores your reasoning. He's toxic, cares not for this war or our people. I can't bear to see him disrespect you and yet follow his whims." The captain finally said, after much more details were brought upon from all around the camp. The lack of team combat, the ridiculous gestures, the egotistical decisions, everything said from varying corners of the camp. Link remained silent, his eyes taking in all his soldiers' faces, taught with worry and annoyance equally. The boy rose from his seat, waving to them all, and dismissing himself.
He went first to Lana's tent. Silence followed, their conversation likely all in non-verbal fashion, before Link crossed the camp and moved to the crimson tent that housed the demon lord. With a shake of their heads, the soldiers went to sleep, preparing for their nest mission in the morning.
Things began to change within the squad of Hylian soldiers. In the next several days, the Gorons joined in with their battalion and led the force through the mountains. The difference was their captains were less adept at figuring out their battle plans when their leader would not even speak to them. After several confused allies squandered their battle strategies, the Goron captain finally used his booming, rocky voice to say such.
"We need direction, not plans! Gorons move to follow orders, not remember lines dotted on a map!" Link, as he was, kept himself expressionless, scratching at his chin and looking down at his map. The Gorons seemed flustered, while he tried to point out his places on the map as Proxi yammered over his shoulder what she thought he meant, getting many shakes of Link's head. With the boulder creatures growing more frustrated with confused demands, Link could only stare with wide blue eyes, overwhelmed, at a loss, Proxi's voice drowned out.
"ENOUGH!" The shriek silenced the field for what felt like miles. The sword spirit marched across it to stand next to Link, sneering down at the Goron captain whose grip tightened over his hammer. "Enough of your useless drivel. If you didn't have rocks for your brain you would know how to direct your troops yourself. If you want to snivel about your incompetence with war, do it buried underground like the grubs you are, or stand and. Listen. To. Us." Ghirahim emphasized each phrase with a flick of his wrist, hissing through his teeth.
The camp went quiet as the Goron soldiers turned away, leaving their commanders around the table with their plans. Ghirahim's claws were digging into the tabletop, a foot tapping as he stared down the Goron captain in a way that made the Hylian captain adjacent to him feel faint. The death stare was averted as Link turned and put a hand on Ghirahim's taut arm, bringing the demon's attention to him. The young boy signed fluidly, faster than the Hylian's had seen him do to them. As the moments passed, the Goron's face seemed to fall in recognition, his bulky shoulders sagging as he watched on. With a deep inhale, Ghirahim stood up to his full height, folding his arms behind his back lest he snap the table in two.
"The boy says that there are two keeps to the northeast, and a path leading near to one but is unable to be traversed. The slope offers the enemy an opportunity to gain high ground and shoot at us from their stations here, and here, thus, what this course on the map means in simpler words, is…"
The Hylian captain stared, and even saw his soldiers staring, as Ghirahim played interpreter.
Truth be told, the Hylians hadn't even known Ghirahim knew how to sign. Whenever Link made to converse, Ghirahim spoke freely and never seemed to look at his gestures. It was quite the shock to see Ghirahim's temper rising over the next orders from the young hero. The demon's pale face was turning red with his frustration, hands tense as though her were trying to strangle something in his grip. Link raised his hands, taking a deep breath himself while looking at the demon sword. Ghirahim's fists clenched and he grit his teeth. Seconds passed and soon those fingers reserved only for snapping and manicures were moving as fluidly as the young boy's into a conversation, and Link smiled and returned in kind. Their argument moved to be quiet and gesticulated instead of screamed. They stood at more ease than before when Ghirahim finally put a hand on his hip, running the other through his hair.
"I do hope you know what you're getting into, sky child."
The legendary hero signed something that the Hylians watching did not know, and Ghirahim returned it before strutting away.
The last stretch was the worst. Plenty of soldiers had fallen to relentless swarms of stalchildren and more. They just kept coming, and the Hyrule forces were already outnumbered. As the troupe entered the next keep, more enemies jumped down from the walls into the fight. Ghirahim had hardly said a word to them as he led their charge onwards. Now with stalmasters and a redead knight skulking in from the doors, Ghirahim focused his attention. He had a trick the soldiers witnessed every few times they were surrounded. A red tether would appear between them, and as Ghirahim rolled and blinked out of the way of multiple enemies, his daggers would always find their mark on his target. He could take on three darknuts at once, and once one was gone, the tether shifted to the next. Even so, the captain had seen Ghirahim be struck by an odd attack, and while he barely gave a wince to annoyance, his combatant on the other end of the string would nearly double over. The magic seemed more powerful than a source for aiming.
And it wasn't working this time.
Ghirahim focused on the redead knight, his blades coming from the floor and daggers attacking in lines. One uncalculated, miss-stepped second, and the tether faded as the redead knight gave an enraged howl. The sound burst made the demon lord freeze in place, gritting his teeth, trying to snap his fingers and reconnect their string. The Stalmasters stepped in, dropping their heavy axes on the demon. He unleashed a wretched roar of pain, breaking free and circling around the other side of them, his pristine white clothing stained heavily red by his own blood.
"Hrrgh…these fools are so insensitive. Hero, make yourself useful!"
The captain turned and swung at the stalchildren attempting to overpower the keep and ambush their commander. He saw the tail end of the blue scarf worn by the hero leap over their wall, and looking again saw the fierce determination in the hero's eyes as he slashed a stalmaster so viciously it fell into piles of bone. He shifted his weight and plunged the gleaming blade through the armor of the next stalmaster, keeping one eye behind him. Ghirahim met his gaze and straightened up, as if just realizing he had lost his perfect poise, and turned his hard stare back to the redead knight.
"I shall give you my undivided attention."
A barrier of diamonds enclosed the rotting knight, knives poised all around the dome, and the captain looked away as he heard the sound of torn rotten flesh and blood splattering the field.
"Commander, can I ask you something?" The captain and his men sat around their base of operations, deep into a lesson of learning new phrases to sign to the chosen hero, when the new recruit spoke up. To Link's nod and smile, the soldier cleared his throat. "Do you prefer us to use this method to communicate with you?" A few soldiers straightened their backs to make some defense when the recruit backpedaled. "I just see some only speak to you and interpret your words, and others that only use the signing. I don't mean to offend you, sir…"
Link smiled and waved a hand, dismissing the idea. He signed a few things slowly and contemplating how to explain. A cloud of diamonds appeared next to him in an instant, the Hylian soldiers jolting in their seat.
"Fools, the boy is not deaf. Why would it be insulting to speak with him." The demon lord rolled his eyes. The captain thought over his next words carefully, but stopped as both he and Ghirahim looked at Link's flurry of hand motions. The demon lord simply scoffed as the Hylians struggled to keep up. "What must it be like to be as slow as you lot…the hero says he appreciates yours…effort…in learning, but its main purpose was so you could understand him. A silly notion that you could possibly—" Ghirahim stopped abruptly as the hero's gloved hand swatted at his thigh where he stood next to him. "He has no preference. If it is easier for your brains to form words to speak it is acceptable, especially in battle, we haven't the time for this. Maybe if you live long enough you'll actually comprehend him better than you are able now."
The Hylians sat quiet as the demon lord spoke to their hero about Lana's supposed incompetence with forming battle strategy before they both retreated back to the tents.
"Oh, my head was swimming for a moment there. I could have sworn we were enemies."
It was not a phrase the forces wanted to hear as the second King Dodongo stomped towards them. The outpost captain readied his shield as the demon lord turned to their commander, by his side, and made his daggers appear. Link turned his head, and at the sound of fingers snapping, rolled under the line of blades.
The dodongo gave a mighty roar.
The soldiers carried the wounded back into their stolen keep, some stomped by one of the large boss monsters, and others battered and bleeding from whirling daggers and jagged sword strikes. After several foul glares back at the red cloaked commander-turned-traitor, Lana shooed them onwards, calling upon small tree-liked knights to help carry them along. The hero soon walked into their keep, carrying the demon lord on his back. Fires were lit to keep them through the night, tents posted by those able, and heart transport troupes came in before sundown to heal the bloodied soldiers. Ghirahim remained unconscious.
"He attacked you, Link! And everyone else, what was that about?!" The whole keep could hear the faerie's exclamations as she fluttered near the hero's ear. Link shook his head, looking over the demon lord's wounds seriously. Wounds he inflicted with his own blade. It hurt something inside that he couldn't quite pinpoint, some memory longer than their first meeting back in time to Skyloft. He looked up as the blue mage jogged over, her deku stick folded to her knees.
"What happened this time?" Link gave a shrug, and motions with his fingers.
"Turned on us out of nowhere."
"Just like that? He's weird but that's pretty far out there." Lana tapped her chin with her index finger. "Maybe…maybe that witch put a curse over him. Or the dodongos. Impa and Shiek have been having problems with their troupes becoming turncoats."
"It is a likely cause for this." Link and Lana turned as Zelda walked into the keep, flanked by her own Hylian captains. "As fickle the demon is, it's surprisingly out of character to change tact, especially against those mindless dodongos. I may be able to rid him of this curse." She unbelted her rapier from her hip, golden armor shimmering as she turned and presented it to her guards. She knelt gently next to Link, folding her hands before her. The triforce on the back of her hand glowed against the light of the fire, and Link rubbed his own hand where he felt the tingling beneath his glove. As she moved her palms apart, light blossomed in her hands, and with an exhale she let it pour out like water onto the demon below her. Seconds passed with no movement from any onlookers, and Zelda slowly opened her eyes and clapped her hands together. The chest of the demon lord pulsed with light magic, and he shot up as if electrocuted.
"Ouch, that HURT!" He howled, turning his head and leveling a violet glare at the Queen, pressing a hand to his chest. Proxi's wings stuttered and she jingled, vibrating with tension, while Link, Zelda, and Lana simply smiled.
"Light magic does wonders." Zelda folded her hands back into her lap, watching placidly as Ghirahim looked himself over for more damage. His wound were sealing as he did, fingers sparking with his own magic.
"Well, he is a creature of darkness, I guess that would hurt!" Proxi chimed.
"You are one to talk about creatures, incandescent gnat!" Ghirahim retorted. Link's smile broadened and signed as he rolled his eyes.
"He's back to normal."
"Normal, I'm positively incensed. You let this witch put her holy magic inside of me, demon lord Ghirahim? At least unconscious I wouldn't deal with such nonsense!"
"Normal and whining, right as rain." Lana hopped back onto her feet. "You can deal with him, Link. I've got soldiers to fix up. Soldiers you'll need to apologize to, mister demon sword!" She skipped off as Ghirahim muttered curses under his breath, rising to his feet. Link rose as well, a steadying hold over the demon's arm as he swayed. While the demon lord recovered his balance, Link offered a hand to pull Zelda back to her feet.
"Be more alert now of traitorous behavior. The closer we get to Cia's castle, the more frequent her magic is affecting our forces."
"That witch's magic has no chance against my own. Hers is much like this blue wench here, simple parlor tricks read from a book."
"Regardless, she has more magic at her disposal even without Wizzro or Volga's assistance. Something happened when she opened that portal." Zelda looked to Link solemnly, before turning and retrieving her weapons. Ghirahim crossed his arms over his chest as Link waved, seeing her and her guards out of their keep and to their own base nearby. The hero returned to find Ghirahim staring at the symbols etched into the keep walls pensively.
"Such powerful magic can only come from one source…I knew the feeling felt familiar." Link tilted his head as the demon's murmured conclusion. "Sky child, I believe that there may be a larger battle in store for you and your friends shortly. And if that is correct I may be unable to assist. A dark storm is brewing, striking all throughout the timeline."
Link raised an eyebrow and replied. "We get there when we get there."
"I find it hard to call you grossly optimistic when you're more naive and ignorant." Ghirahim gave a scoff, marching back to where the commander's tent was now erected. Link jogged to catch up to him, catching the demon lord by the cloak to tug him around the other side of the keep's crumbling wall. He huffed once more. "What now, hero? Do you expect me to apologize for my actions? I cannot, and will not, regardless of what that witch—"
His deriving speech was cut short as breath escaped him in a wave, strong arms firm around his middle. The hero embraced him, ignoring how his body was cold and hard as steel he was crafted from, and ignoring the scars healing over from the day's battle. The blond boy refused to look up at the sword spirit, just keeping him trapped as well he could. Ghirahim could easily break his bones, pull himself away, teleport into nothingness. He did none of them.
"What?" The sword spirit mumbled in his deep voice, barely carrying any venom in his tone or volume away from the brick wall. The hero shook his head, his forehead wrinkling the front of the red mantle and rattling the small chains over his collar. "Always the emotional type, aren't you, boy. Even before. Why does our thread of fate span such time and reason? Compelled to entangle us in battle as enemies."
The hero shook his head once more, and even without words, he had no answer. As the sun sunk below the horizon line, the campfires from within the keep began to cast their shadows out from the doorway, chatter from the soldiers coming from around the corner as they all took places to rest or keep watch. Link slowly lessened his grip on the spirit and rocked back on his heels, brushing his bangs from his eyes, unable to meet Ghirahim's eye. The demon smirked, leaning down to press his lips to the boy's forehead. "At least this time, we can remain allies. Until the witch is sealed and her spell reverses. Until then, I will be at your side, no matter what her parlor tricks compel my body towards."
Link looked up at the demon and gave a fond smile, rolling his eyes again and signing. "Drama queen."
"Jest all you like. I have a timeline to return to, and face another charming little hero in over his head."
"You'll lose."
"I know that. I may as well win here while I have the chance." Ghirahim grinned, though his wine-colored eyes appeared distant and foggy. Link tugged the end of his mantle, a tell-tale sign for the demon lord to bend (he towered over the hero in any timeline, he was sure. Were they always this small?) and pressed a kiss to Ghirahim's white-stained lips.
"My thread." The boy signed as he leaned back, smiling once more. The demon now brushed his hair away from his face, enough of an excuse to avert his eyes and shade his pale colored skin from turning colors. His fingers moved to reciprocate.
"My thread."
Link turned and headed back into the keep first, adjusting the scarf over his chin to hide the small smile plastered there. The Hylian captain and Lana watched him move to his quarters and heard the demon lord teleport himself away from their hiding place around the corner. Lana giggled behind her hands, the Hylian captain left staring speechless at the whole encounter. He didn't know the most important symbols spoken between the two, but with that visual, he had a good enough guess.
By morning the soldiers forgot their grudge against the demon lord. And the captain swore that the sword spirit gave a knowing smirk at him from across the camp as Link taught their next lesson.