Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Zelda or any of these characters.

Warnings: Other than spoilers, none.

Notes: The writing is intentionally weird and incorrect, so please don't correct it. Thank you.


He told himself long ago that he'd win no matter what. The Goddess and her knowing radiant smiles, speaking of his downfall with such casual tragedy. He hated that smile, gentle and omniscient, tacked with such natural grace on a face it had no business being on.

You can't win, Ghirahim, she whispers, words haunting him in ages to come, ringing in his ears, drilling into his mind like a foreboding drum.

Centuries passed. Ghirahim, now a defeated shadow in the expanse of the Master Sword. The sky child's blade has slashed his pride to ribbons; the little goddess with her glowing hair and victorious eyes is a mockery of his failure. His master withering away, a formless cloud of smoke. With every defeat he has suffered, he can hear the Goddess laughing at him as he struggles and scrambles to play her game.

And now Fi, more radiant than a swirl of stars, floating before him. A clenching, painful sensation in his chest — I must have you, he utters.

Fi's lips curving into a small smile. The same smile he hates so much, and she makes it more dazzling than a dying sun. His rage and frustration is caught in his throat as he grabs her slender form and kisses her — You win, he admits, kissing the unresponsive lips again and again. I played your game and I lost.


Author's Note: Not much of a comment here. I wanted to write Ghirahim, and I wanted to write GhiraFi, so here you go.