AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the reviews and follows so far, I really appreciate it you guys! :D Now on with ch 2!
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Demise walked, still cradling Ghirahim, until he reached the crest of the hill they had charged from, his party's agreed meeting place. The others were already waiting for him. He supposed he'd spent more time 'playing' with little Ghira than he'd thought. He got a few questioning glances and raised eyebrows when he showed up with a child, but none dared to ask an explanation from their king.
Nevertheless, he supposed they deserved one. He stepped up before them all and, without warning, promptly dropped the child at his feet. Ghirahim landed with a thud, his lower lip quivering pathetically. He began to wail, but a growl and a pointed look from Demise silenced him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I know you're all no doubt wondering why it is that I've bothered to bring this rebel trash all the way up here, why I didn't just kill it on sight. Well, I decided that he could be of some use to me. A king needs servants, doesn't he? Slaves? And you all are too valuable as hunters and warriors and spies to do such trivial work, am I correct?" There was a murmur of assent from the group. "Well then, this boy will be my personal slave. Whatever I need him for, that's what he'll do. He'll be at my disposal, and mine only. You are not to give him any order, or harm him in any way. If I ever hear you've disobeyed these commands, the punishment will be...severe. Am I understood?"
The group answered in one voice, "Yes, King Demise!"
"Good. There should be no problems then. I'd say our work here is finished. We will head back now, it's a long trek home." Demise turned to walk away as the others gathered their supplies, momentarily forgetting his new little nuisance. A small tug on his clothing stopped him.
"What?" He glared down at the pest, who had one fist in his mouth and was staring up at him with pleading brown eyes. "Carry me," came the simple request.
Demise instantly felt rage bubble up inside his chest. How DARE this little NOTHING give him an order? How DARE he? He could crush the insolent little brat right there, and as a matter of fact, he should! He was positively FURIOUS, OUTRAGED, SICK WITH- but wait. He was really getting worked up over nothing, wasn't he? He often did. After all, he'd never really been commanded to do anything in his life so nowadays even the most innocent of requests made his blood boil. The child had simply asked to be carried, and being so young it was probably natural for him to want to be held and coddled by a guardian. But unfortunately for the toddler, Demise was NOT planning on playing the father figure. He was the Master, and Ghirahim was the servant. The sooner the boy learned that, the better.
Calmed somewhat, he gazed back down at new charge, who was staring up at him impatiently, arms raised, still waiting to be picked up.
"NO. You will walk." With that, he advanced to the front of the pool of waiting demons, flaming head held high. It was a hollow victory, sure, but a victory nonetheless. Pouting, Ghirahim got awkwardly to his feet and trotted after him, stumbling more than once. A few of the younger female demons giggled at him, waving, but the others ignored him entirely. What the king's slave did was not their business, they reasoned.
Ghirahim toddled all the way to the front of the group, where Demise was. He had to run to keep up with the king's long strides. Glancing down at him, Demise said nothing, but had to smile a little at the boy's fierce determination. He looked a bit comical, jogging alongside the much taller demon, panting heavily, his abnormally long tongue lolling out of his mouth.
After about an hour, they reached the edge of the Lanayru Sand Sea. The quicksand was lethal to any human who stepped into it, for it would smother them if their head went below the surface, but fortunately most demons were tall enough so that their feet could touch the bedrock below without their head being submerged. The Sand Sea was shallowest at the edges, and got deeper the further in you got. Without thinking, Demise simply walked on and waded through the sucking sand, which only covered him halfway up to his knees at first. The others followed, not at all hindered by the sinkhole. Ghirahim was in up to his waist, but made no complaint, dutifully following his newfound Master. Eventually though, the sand was up to his neck, and he began to panic slightly. Raising his left hand, he snapped his fingers to get the king's attention. "Hey! Listen! You HAVE to carry me RIGHT NOW!"
Demise looked at him, a dangerous expression on his face. "Oh I HAVE to, do I? I don't think so. You WILL walk." Looking ahead again, he simply ignored the little pain in the neck and plodded on.
But Ghirahim continued to be a thorn in his side, pulling on his arms to slow him down, and squealing "Hey! Listen!" in that high-pitched little voice of his. It was almost unbearably annoying.
Finally, Demise had had enough. He stopped suddenly, stepping to the side to allow the others to pass. Then he turned his attention to Ghirahim, who by now was up to his chin in the grit. Without a word, he snatched the boy up by his arm and, brushing most of the earth off of him, allowed him to climb onto his back, wrapping his legs around the king's waist, and his arms around his neck. A few demons looked back to see what their leader was up to, but looked ahead again, trying to stifle their laughter when they saw the great Demon King Demise, Ruler of the Underworld bowed over, carrying a victorious, giggling child on his back.
It was a 4-day walk back, and soon everyone was growing tired of the constant questions and "Are we there yet?"'s from the excitable kid. They only stopped to rest once, and then only for a few hours. The adults could go without sleep for a while, but Ghirahim was utterly exhausted by the time they got to Demise's abode. He was curled up in the ruler's arms and snoring softly as they approached the castle. He awoke when Demise softly jostled him, wanting the boy to see his new home.
It really was a magnificent estate, the grounds immaculately groomed, blooming with black and red roses, every tile on the parapets shined and gleaming for the great king's return. The fortress was enormous, rectangular with four high towers and inside, over 500 grand rooms. And standing there in front of the drawbridge in all her glory, her arms spread wide in welcome, was the Goddess Hylia.