D'awww, I can't believe the views I've got! I was going to update earlier but the consequences of not sleeping for a month are upon me with a vengeance. I am writing this chapter drugged up on Paracetamol and Lucozade (my nan insists it's "better than medicine"). With a severely twisted ankle, natch.
Without further ado, please ignore my laments and read on!
Chapter Two: Vaati's Palace
Getting Ghirahim and the bird acquainted with eachother was an even more difficult task than envisaged. Fartbutt seemed to have a condition widely known as "selective deafness", and repeatedly ignored Demise's orders to stop trampling his minion. It was only when an ugly crack emanated from Ghirahim's arm that things had to get physical. Anybody watching would have been very amused to see the King Of Evil sumo- wrestling a gassy Loftwing to the floor. Despite this, Demise refused to get a more subdued bird. "Have you seen the VAT I had to pay for this one? There's no refunds in medieval times, you know!"
"Master, please. I have been pounded like a shortbread cake and am close to being in a sling already. Could you not spend a little more for my own wellbeing?" Ghirahim protested, indicating the bird that was now being tied in a straitjacket by two lesser, more expendable Kuroi.
Demise shook his head. "You two will get on eventually. Just give it a little-"
His sentence was interrupted by an exasperated wail.
An hour later, and the sorcerer was sent back to the HQ to pack anything he might need. This was proving to be a difficult task, as Fartbutt would only carry a maximum of two items. "Oh..." Ghirahim fretted, rummaging through his things in exasperation. "Should I take my Babyliss or my GHD hair straighteners? My Choos or my Louboutins? Decisions, decisions!"
An idea struck him. "Maybe I should ring one of my minions!"
Bringing out the latest in medieval cell- phone technology (the BrickWork 2000, patented), he dialled the number of King Bulbin in. He listened apprehensively to the dial tone before it was picked up on the other end.
"Wugga wug?"
"Hello to you too. I must ask you a favour, would you come over and help me pack?"
"Ummma jabba joo."
"Listen, I appreciate you're busy, but-"
"Alalalalalala booby. Hee hee booby."
"Cool. That clears it all up. Thanks a lot."
He slammed the phone down. "Jerk."
Being the most resourceful of the Kuroi, he eventually decided to do away with vanity and pack only the bare necessities. "I didn't even know you could rip this from The Jungle Book!" he chuckled as he stowed them in a carry case with only two pockets, courtesy of his ever- generous master. He decided to leave his hair implements at the HQ and pop into his "friend" Vaati's on the way up. Although he couldn't contact Vaati from the ground (he lived in the sky, where the signal was notoriously bad), he could always take a forbidden detour and pop into his floating palace.
On Ghirahim's orders, the Kuroi gathered in the HQ to hear his farewells. They milled about boredly in the open space until the order to organise themselves (in order of rank and/or whether they could bend their leg behind their head or not, both were very important factors in the Kuroi) came via the sound of a cow bell.
"Everybody! Listen to me!" Ghirahim yelled over the hubbub that stubbornly refused to die down. "LISTEN! LIIIIISSSSSTTTEEEEENNNNN!"
Things did not improve. He waited patiently for a couple more minutes, hoping that conversations would be finished, but was eventually forced to conclude that he was not going to get his way just standing there.
"Oh well. I didn't want to do this, but I have no choice..." he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he stood on his dainty tiptoes and screamed.
"TINGLE TINGLE KOOLOO- LIMPAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
There was a dead silence as everyone looked around them in horror, frozen like musical statues as the war cry of their sworn enemy faded into the walls.
Someone hit the panic alarm.
Needless to say, Ghirahim was unable to give the farewell speech he had so lovingly prepared among the throng of screaming Kuroi. Despite Demise's frequent drills in which everyone lined up and evacuated perfectly, memories of practise faded away in the howling mess as the world, his wife and his deaf aunt trampled over eachother for the exits. Heads rolled and arms went flying as people's faces were squashed into the floor, and at one point Ghi could have sworn he even saw a Bieber fan throw down her Belieber's Book Of Death Threats- Never Have To Deal With Haters Again!
He had to say, though, nobody could create chaos better than him. Things were looking up.
He strode out to where Demise was waiting, arms folded. Fartbutt was sat squarely next to his master, wings folded behind his back with a deceptively friendly look on his face. He was practically purring, and Ghirahim approached with some apprehension.
"See? I told you all you needed was a little time." Demise said cheerfully, stroking Fartbutt as if it was his pet. "I'm always right, aren't I?"
It was wiser not to respond to that question. However, one could see where Ganondorf got his boundless self- confidence from. Fartbutt straightened up reluctantly, recognising his master. Demise quickly realised that the Loftwing had not decided to tolerate Ghirahim for the time being, but rather was ridiculously short- sighted. As was the norm, he proceeded to lunge towards the mage, talons bared.
Thinking quickly, Demise summoned a lasso from another dimension and proceeded to wrap it around Ghirahim's waist. He yanked and brought his minion and the bird heavily together, resulting in full- scale mutilation in which feathers flew, Armageddon was brought forward by several years, Ghirahim was decapitated.
"No no no, we're not ending the story that soon." Demise tutted, placing Ghi's head firmly back on his shoulders. "We're going to get to Chapter Four at the very least. The author is liking this."
"She's the only one!"
"SHUT UP AND GET ON THE BIRD!"
It was a couple of minutes later that Ghirahim departed for good, the lukewarm well- wishes of his master quickly forgotten in the exhilaration of finally leaving the stuffy HQ. The open sky seemed fresh and warm, the clouds scudding across the deep orange of dawn, big fluffy explosions of-
"Damn, that cloud looks just like a dropped metaphor!" Ghi announced, shielding his eyes in the obligatory looking- to- the- future position. "Doesn't it, Loftwing?"
"I can't talk, jerkass." Fartbutt replied irritably.
Ghirahim did not say anything else for a long time. Fartbutt never uttered another word in his life.
One thing that Ghi learnt on his journey up to Skyloft was that his mode of transport was not blessed with stamina. They were forced to stop over several times on various clouds so that Fartbutt could have a rest. Time- keeping was an important asset for any Kuroi, but Fartbutt turned a blind eye to Ghirahim's natural impatience and had to be shaken awake from sleeping several times. After his rousing, he would fly with the utmost reluctance, and needless to say the two did not make much progress.
Ghirahim and Demise kept in contact via a walkie- talkie Vaati had hastily constructed for them. However, it had an annoying habit of also connecting to the nearest radio signal, which always happened to be Real Radio.
"Product placement for the most tedious, stifling, out- of- date station there is!" Ghirahim snapped, shaking the item vigorously as "The Way You Make Me Feel" blared out with an inappropriate cheerfulness. "That is IT! I am no longer going to tolerate this!"
"Yes, you are." said the author, and typed a few lines into her computer. (A/N: Is this becoming a trademark of mine?)
Ghi's demeanour instantly changed and a beaming smile ripped across his face. "Actually, you know what? This journey has been splendiferous so far! Why, I'm enjoying it so much I think I'll just-" The effect wore off and his shoulders slumped. "Ah, what's the point?"
He looked to the left, scanning the sky helplessly for some sort of residence. To his utter relief, he saw the familiar sight of a futuristic floating palace suspended in mid- air by some strange, and probably illegal, power. The Works Of Mozart: Disc 1 could be heard emanating softly from it, contrasting perfectly with its' somewhat hardcore image. The strange style choice could only mean one thing; Vaati!
Banking heavily to the left (and causing Fartbutt to let off a gassy eruption in shock), the long- suffering demon made his way towards his only source of respite.
The first thing Vaati knew about Ghirahim's arrival was that a giant Loftwing had just arrived through his window with an earth- shaking crash. Instinctively thinking it was one of the Skyloftians, he snatched up a copy of Why Everybody Hates Justin Bieber (an enormous volume, by all means) and sprinted out to his dining room.
"WAIT, VAATI! WAAAAAAAIIIIIITTTTTT!" Ghirahim shrieked, to no avail. The book came down on him, propelled by the strength of God, and all went black.
He came round ten minutes later laid on Vaati's kitchen table. The purple- skinned mage sat before him, calmly eating a lunch of tea- smoked salmon. "Tea- smoked salmon?! Hitting me over the head with 500 page volumes?! Vaati, have you completely lost it?!" Ghirahim snapped, sitting up and whacking his head on a low- hanging chandelier. Pieces of glass rained down into Vaati's food.
The mage looked disgusted and pushed it away. "You've destroyed two very fragile pieces of my palace already." he hissed back. "Why on earth do you think you can just- just TURN UP?! I'm your superior, therefore you knock!"
Ghirahim glanced out of the window. "How the hell could I knock? I'd fall out of the sky!"
"What, you still haven't learnt to levitate?"
"No! I've been practising, though! I've got to Grade 2, but autolevitation isn't until Grade-"
"Yeah, yeah. Levitate that piece of glass back into the chandelier, then." Vaati said venomously, pointing.
Desperate to get one up on his superior and best frenemy, Ghirahim proceeded to concentrate all his attentions on the piece of glass. He closed his eyes, pointed his finger and-
It hovered a little, then gave a depressed sigh and fell to the floor again.
Vaati raised a smug eyebrow. "Still can't get it up, huh?"
If it were possible, the atmosphere turned even frostier after that. Nevertheless, there was no other floating accommodation in the sky except for Vaati's palace (and Skyloft was thousands of miles away yet, such was Fartbutt's laziness). Ghirahim was forced to admit he would have to sleep over in the palace for the night, and continue his journey tomorrow. Vaati expertly tethered Fartbutt outside (when asked how he was so good at handling it, he launched into a long reminisce about how he had once kept a pet Gyorg "UNTIL THAT GOD DAMN LINK KILLED IT IN MINISH CAP!"). Ghirahim was made to sleep in one of the dungeon cells where Vaati usually kept the maidens he kidnapped, while Vaati stood outside and laughed at his misfortune until he went to sleep.
That night did not pass quickly.