It starts slowly. I visit Skyloft in the dead of night, not even daring to enter the well-guarded Knight Academy. I sit, instead, on the high plinth in the hands of the Goddess statue, gazing fixedly down at the area of the building where I know Link must be sleeping. The irony of this is not lost on me; I think of how my master would punish me if he knew where I sat, literally in the hands of the Goddess, staring lustfully, longingly, at the enemy.
I continue this, night after night, for weeks, forgoing my usual eating and sleeping endeavors, only returning home when the sky turns from velvety purple to the smoky, pinkish-gray of dawn. I don't dare venture closer to the Academy than the statue of the Goddess. Consequently, I haven't actually seen Link yet. I know the chances of him venturing out after dark are likely slim, with so much nighttime surveillance. Once or twice, I've seen the yellow-clad knight who patrols the corridors venture outside, look around briefly, then return to his post. I wonder vaguely what he's looking for. The danger has passed, Demise is dead. What else have the Skyloftians to fear?
It occurs to me that Link has likely warned them that I might still be alive. My downfall was ambiguous at best, and, daft though he is, I know Link is at least sharp enough to realize that he hasn't seen the last of me. To venture into town, or to enter Skyloft in the light of the day, is far too risky. I must admit to myself, though, that these careful sojourns satisfy only the smallest portion of the desire burning in my heart.
After more than a month, that gaping, gnawing hole in my heart hasn't eased. If anything, it's intensified, grown bigger, with my nightly rituals. It dares me to push further, to approach the Academy, to throw caution to the winds and catch a glimpse of the golden-haired boy who plagues my every dream. When I can stand it no longer, I do just that.
As usual, under the cover of night, I sit upon my plinth, uncharacteristically nervous. Though I know I could use my power to disappear then reappear directly inside Link's room, the idea seems unwise. It seems best to sneak into the Academy slowly, to get a better understanding of the building's security. However, this night seems especially dark; the sky is moonless and there's a hush over the dimly-lit grounds of the Academy. All is quiet. Tonight I have come well-prepared, anticipating my descent into the village, dressing plainly in dark colors and hiding my hair and face under a hood and a thick balaclava. I gaze down at the sprawling building of the Academy, and my heartbeat quickens as I imagine Link, innocent, brave, beautiful, sleeping peacefully, without thought or fear. I entertain a slight twinge of envy for a moment as I imagine what it must be like, to live without fear, worry, or a gaping hole in the heart.
I decide I can't delay any longer, and begin my descent, footfalls making barely a sound on the soft earth covered by a smattering of grass which surrounds the statue. I approach the Academy cautiously, wary of the lights still streaming from some of the windows, measuring each breath as my excitement mounts. When I reach the Academy's great wooden double doors, I'm pleased and surprised to find the door miraculously unlocked. I hardly take it as a sign that tonight's excursion will be fortuitous; to drop my guard could prove a fatal mistake, and I don't want to risk this past month's careful watching and waiting.
Quietly, I edge along the corridor, passing by door after door. Each is labeled with a small nameplate, and I squint at them as I pass, my heartbeat quickening as I anticipate that the next door will be Link's. I meet nobody as I move through the hallway, and I wonder why I had been so worried in the first place. And then, suddenly, the door is in front of me, his door. I stare at it for a moment, then press my ear against it, and swear I can hear his soft, deep breathing just beyond it. Slowly, painstakingly, I place a shaking hand on the knob of the door, and turn it as quietly as I can. Again, unlocked. I pray the door won't creak as I ease it open, and it doesn't. Quick as a flash, I slip into the room, and close the door again behind me, breathing a heavy sigh of relief and turning on the spot to find Link sitting bolt upright in bed, eyes open and wide.
"What the—"
Fuck fuck fuck—
I dash to Link's bed and slap a hand over his mouth, drawing the dagger on my belt and giving him a savage warning look.
"Don't you dare, don't you dare," I growl viciously, keeping my hand firmly over Link's mouth. trying hard to keep my voice even. Anger and excitement flood through my veins in equal measure.
I press the blade of the dagger against Link's bare neck, and remove my hand from his mouth. Immediately, he opens it wide and I know he's preparing a yell loud enough to wake all of Skyloft, so I jam the knife harder against his neck and mutter, "I know you know what's going to happen if you make so much as a peep, boy."
Link glares at me, but closes his mouth.
"Good," I say, drawing the knife away from his throat, where three tiny drops of blood bead along the cut I've made. I almost open my mouth to apologize, but think better of it, remembering the power I still have to wield over him.
I sit, perched stiffly on his bed and say, casually, "I didn't think you'd be awake."
"So," he whispers. "What was your plan, to come in here and watch me sleep?"
"Don't act like you're surprised, boy," I counter, attempting to regain my usual manner. "We both know you're smarter than that. Or," I amended nastily, eyeing him. "Perhaps not."
"I knew you weren't dead," he says, looking away and scowling. "I knew you'd be back. I knew it was just a matter of—"
"Smart boy," I interrupt. "I would have thought, though, that if you were anticipating my return, you might have ensured the security at your Academy might be a little tighter."
"What are you—?"
"Would you like to guess, Link, how many guards I passed on my leisurely traverse to your quaint little room?"
"I thought…" he trails off, then starts over. "I told Pipit to watch out for you."
"For me?" I ask in a sarcastic, sing-song voice. "I'm honestly flattered. I mean, obviously, I'm still as much of a danger to you as I ever was. But sending your friends to keep a lookout? You must really be frightened…"
"It's his job, idiot. Pipit is the night watchman." I feel an intense pulse of anger at his insult, but keep my temper under control.
"Sassy. And I thought you were polite."
"What do you want?" he demands, folding his arms.
"Want?" I ask, feigning surprise. "Come now, let's not dispense with the formalities. How have you been? Thriving, I assume? Unburdened by the weight of worry or—"
"What do you want?" he asks again stubbornly, bright blue eyes ablaze.
"Fine," I concede, dropping the act. "You want to know what I want?" He looks at me, impatient and expectant, so I continue, "Fine. I'm here because I'm bored, and you've always been my favorite toy."
Link looks surprised, and a little nervous. "So you aren't here for Zelda?"
I consider him for a moment. "Well," I begin. "Though your sweet young friend is certainly an easy target, I must admit the shine has rather worn off her since your most admirable defeat of my master." I give him a sarcastic nod of acknowledgment. "I don't have a use for her. And besides," I continue, smiling maliciously, "you're much more fun to play with. You put up a fight."
Link huffs, looking away again, arms still folded.
"Look at you," I say, spreading my arms wide in a parody of an open, embracing gesture. "You've hardly changed since I last saw you. You're just as obstinate and irritating as you were before. So handsome, too. No doubt you've been simply inundated with attention since your return. You must have girls begging for your hand left, right, and center."
Link blushes. I savor the color in his cheeks, and that I'm responsible; making him squirm fills my chest with the familiar heat of pride again.
"Tell me though," I continue, leaning a little closer. "Where is Miss Zelda? I'd have thought you would have her wedded and bedded by now."
Link's blush deepens. "She isn't here," he replies, avoiding my eye.
"Did she break your heart? Poor, poor heroic Li—"
"I turned her down," he says quietly, the color fading from his cheeks now.
For a moment, I'm stunned into silence, but I gather myself. "Understandable. The pressures of heroism are great, I am sure."
"I don't know why I'm talking to you about it," he mutters, gaining back a note of derision. "Firstly, I know you don't really care, and secondly, you're the sick bastard who tried to kill Zelda, so honestly I don't think you deserve to lick the dirt from my boots."
Again, the anger flares in me at his words, and again I suppress it. "Noted," I reply, examining my fingernails idly. "I would expect no less after that nasty business down on the Surface. However, now that some time has passed, I think we ought to turn over a new leaf, you and I."
Link rolls his eyes. "And what, kiss and make up?"
I open my mouth to retort, but his words send my imagination into overdrive, and I see, in my mind's eye, an elaborate scene in which Link accepts me without question, declares an undying attraction to me, and promptly decides that the best way to express it is to kiss me with passionate abandon. I shake my head, blinking, and the image fades, and I'm left with the real Link, looking sarcastic and wary, arms folded resolutely, eyes glowing, his golden hair messy…
I recover, shrugging. "Whatever you think is appropriate."
"I think it's appropriate for you to leave."
I get to my feet. "Have it your way, then," I say, moving toward the door. I'm disappointed, but unsurprised. I knew Link would not be receptive immediately, and, impatient though I am, I've prepared myself for the long haul. I know his resolve will need to be broken down before I can even dream of fulfilling my fantasies.
"Just like that? You're leaving?" Link looks heartily surprised.
"Oh, believe me, sky child, I'll be back," I say, and with a wink, I snap my fingers, and disappear.
