Ghirahim blinked awake as the tendrils of magic unraveled, and their influence melted away from his mind. He attempted to shift, but the rattle of chains and the limited range of motion told him all he needed to know about his current position. A quick assessment told him he was unharmed but still hurting and likely swollen and bruised from his earlier confrontation. But could he blame them for that? Ghirahim did get ahead quite ahead of himself this time, and now he was paying the price. What were they to do with him? Ghirahim did not know but was not about to make a plan blindly. He had already acted foolish enough for one day. The demon cast his eyes towards the cell door and listened.

Light streamed in from the hall through cell bars, and shadows danced over Ghirahim. He could make out the figures of two guards as well as another colorful sight. Fi floated in the hall; her expression betrayed nothing past her usual grimness, however; he could feel her gaze. Pacing footsteps accompanied by two voices also echoed in down the shrouded corridor to his cell's left.

"Why, Princess? Why keep the demon alive? He is probably awake right now concocting some scheme to free himself and do harm."

A woman spat; Ghirahim deduced from her voice that she was a protective figure towards this aforementioned 'Princess,' and something in his chest twinged with annoyance on instinct. There was something oddly familiar with how it frustrated him. But, the irritation was oddly fleeting and vanished as soon as it tickled his nose. Another softer voice responded.

"Impa, I know the risks involved, but I think he could tell us something useful. Do you think it is a coincidence that he appeared today? And if it is as Fi said, and he is a foe from the past, then we have more reason than ever to be concerned. We don't want our enemies making a habit of coming back from the dead, right?" The Princess replied.

Impa! Ghirahim knew that voice was familiar. It seemed that despite all this time passing, there were still some familiar faces from his time, even if it was only reincarnations, mere echos, blasts from the past that somehow tasted fresh like morning dew. Ghirahim wiggled again, looking down at the fetters pinning him to the cold, damp stone floor. As the sleep cleared from his mind, he also began to notice that some spell remained. Something else was still there-something restricted the magic as it flowed and ebbed into his limbs from his chest. A huff escaped him. Warding magic, perhaps? He pulled himself into focus, drawing in a deep breath as his magic began to poke and push at the foreign spell. Nothing seemed to happen before the splinting static of magical feedback stabbed into his head. A groan rumbled from his throat as his head shook to clear the buzzing that pulsed in his ear. Fi suddenly spoke up after floating over and interrupting the two women as they bickered.

"Princess Zelda, Ghirahim has awoken from his sleep. I predict now is the best time to inquire."

Impa and Zelda fell quiet. The silence was tense; Ghirahim could tell even from where he was, and he waited, keeping his eyes forward. Zelda stepped into view. Her soft sapphire eyes peered past her golden locks and the iron bars. Impa's eyes followed with her own stern, baleful glare, and crossed arms would have been enough to freeze an ordinary man in place, but Ghirahim knew that look all too well, and it would not faze him. So old habits do die hard, it seemed. Even across lifetimes, the dog was still loyal to its duty. Zelda gestured toward the guard on her right, and he gave a quick nod before unlocking the cell door and pushing it open. Zelda then raised her hand towards Impa who's frown only intensified, but she conceded, and the young woman stepped into the cell.

"Leave us," Zelda ordered, and everyone listened.

Zelda remained serene; her hands were placed neatly on her belly as she seemed to take a moment to center herself before speaking.

"My name is Princess Zelda of Hyrule."

Ghirahim's smile unnerved her as she cleared her throat.

"We have put you here because of your crimes against the kingdom."

"I know why you have put me here, girl." He replied arrogance dripped from his words as if he did not care that he was the one bound in chains at this very moment. Zelda remained neutral and calm.

"Then you understand the place you have put me in. They mean to have you killed."

Ghirahim laughed aloud, "The fact that you think they could only speaks more of your ignorance."

"If that is true, then why are you the one who is in chains?"

Zelda replied with a coy smile. Ghirahim scowled.

"I believe we can assist each other; however, I am sure you have questions about the land since you last walked in it. I can tell you, but I am hoping you can help me in turn."

"Why should I tell you anything? There is nothing even remotely beneficial involved for me, and I find watching you flounder for answers almost entertaining." Ghirahim retorted.

Surely she would not take that well. Indeed it would send her into a fit of pining, pleading, and useless bargaining. While it was always enticing to watch a human beg, it did not matter, not this time. But then Ghirahim stopped himself. Why did that not matter? Things like that always mattered to darkness. It was always looking to feed and gorge itself on Ghirahim's indulgences. At this moment, he had not noticed Zelda stand up and move to the corner of the room, where she lifted a shallow bowl filled with water and a washcloth clinging to the rim. She walked back over to him and kneeled before setting the bowl aside and wetting the cloth. Zelda picked up the washcloth in her hands and dabbed the left side of the demon's face.

Ghirahim jolted back as the cool cloth kissed his skin; surprise and confusion flashed across his countenance in a matter of moments.

"What are you doing?!" Ghirahim demanded,

"Making this conversation mutually beneficial," Zelda replied; she was not speculating but instead stating a fact. Ghirahim realized how close she was studying him throughout their little talk and an unbidden shiver shook his shoulders. Zelda took his silence as acceptance as her hands rose once more. One held him still while the other, keeping the cloth, padded his cheek and split lip.

Ghirahim found himself unable to move or even think. Each breath the demon took was carefully measured as he watched her closely. She did not seem to have any ill intent, but then why was she doing this? Acts of kindness were never free in his world; there were always strings attached.

"I apologize for Fi hitting you so hard." Zelda confided, "however, I think the captain would reprimand me for saying so."

Ghirahim opened his mouth to speak, but he choked on his words. Why did his blood run cold? What had happened? Why did he find himself wanting to sag into her palm as she nursed his wounds? By all rights, he should not allow this; after all, this girl had been nothing more than an obstacle and later tool in a past life for everything he stood for and served. Yet, he found himself relaxing slightly into her palm.

The shadows that usually crowded his mind in these moments were nowhere to be found. The voices that haunted his hearing were mute, and all he could feel was the weight of his shoulders sag as his confident outer shell melted away. His eyelids fell, and his typical smile turned to a frown. Zelda cocked her head as his head drooped in her hands.

"You're tired..." She whispered.

"NO! I above such things as sleep."

Ghirahim snapped, coming back to attention, pulling away from her hold as the cracks in his armor shifted back into place for only a moment as the fire attempted to flare for the first time since he woke up in the damp cell. Being tired was not something he could be, especially in front of the enemy. The embers smoldered before dying as quickly as they sparked to life, and the demon attempted to resume his authoritative posture (well, the best he could do in chains), but it was to no avail as the only thing keeping him up now was the iron biddings.

Zelda remained quiet for a moment, her brow curled down, and her heart ached with a terrible pity.

"Let me see if we can get you a room in the castle. That'll be a better place to rest than this dingy dungeon."

Zelda spoke just as softly as before. Ghirahim remained still for a moment before his head bopped. The Princess smiled before standing up, breaking several minutes of rigid stillness at last, and she gathered her things before stepping out of the cell. She then headed down the hall, where she had asked the others to wait while speaking to the demon lord.

"Release him and give him a room in the west wing of the castle. A room far from others but still comfortable enough for someone of his stature."

The guards gaped. What had their Princess just asked of them? To release the demon that killed several people today and was not pleasant to anyone he spoke to. Impa audibly gasped.

"Princess Zelda. You can't be serious!"

"I am. I feel there is something else there. Something was desperately scraping for escape. I think Ghirahim can help us, but first, we need to gain some ground. We will still keep a very close eye on him, in fact, Fi?"

Fi floated forward at the command of her maker's descendant.

"I want you to watch him. Accompany him around the castle. You are authorized to use what means necessary to keep Ghirahim from harming others, but I ask that violence be the last resort."

Fi nodded and bowed. Zelda stepped past them all, and Impa followed close behind. The guards shared a look before doing as they were told. They both did their best to remain professional, but they both tensed and jumped as Ghirahim rose to his feet. Fi outstretched her hands, and his things materialized, folded up neatly before her. He stepped past the guards, he still seemed in a daze, but shadows of his usual decorum had returned. He told his effects into his arms.

"Follow me."

Fi deadpanned as she made her way down the hall and up the stairs snaking back into the castle above. Ghirahim followed close behind without saying a word. Fi led Ghirahim up and through the labyrinth of corridors and rooms. The guards had flanked behind them, watching, ready to strike if the demon decided to attempt escape. Ghirahim carried his things close to his chest now, and his eyes lifted from the floor. Servants, guards, advisors, and more all filled the castle halls. All eyes were on him, and they would whisper as he passed. For the first time in centuries, Ghirahim felt small.

"Isn't that the demon?"

"Who let the disgusting creature out?"

"What were they thinking?"

They all whispered, hissed, and cowered away as he passed. His mind was twisting itself into a pretzel to understand what was wrong with him. What had happened to him while the shadows held him? Did they do this? Was this all part of a bigger game? Ghirahim was lost in his thoughts, so much so that he nearly bumped into Fi as she stopped. Ghirahim stepped back, clearly a little embarrassed, but he said nothing. He blinked as he took in his surroundings. They had come to a corridor at the far end of one of the many winding halls that made up the palace.

"We have arrived. Your temporary lodging is just inside."

It was in the farthest reaches of the castle. Ghirahim was surprised even to find a room this secluded. Perhaps they had done something like this before?

Do they often take in stray dogs?

A voice suddenly breathed into his ear, but it thankfully sounded strained. Ghirahim jumped a little, but he was quick to cover it up with a roll of his shoulders and a nod.

"Do not leave the room until I arrive in the morning. Any attempts to leave or acts of violence will be met with deadly force."

Fi added as she fazed through the door. Moments later, the door clicked and opened with a loud creak. Ghirahim stepped inside to meet with a dark room, but his eyes adjusted in seconds. The room was decently sized, and all the furniture was shrouded in dusk covers. Ghirahim felt the wards on his mind start to pull back, and the magic tickled his fingertips as it rushed back into his limbs without restriction.

"I have returned the use of your magic to you. Use it wisely." Fi stated before turning. Ghirahim followed her movements and was about to speak. He suddenly felt like he should say something. Nothing came out as the purple and blue sword spirit glided back into the hall, and the door closed behind her with a loud click.