Chapter Nine

About ten months went by since I first awoke in Ghirahim's wing within his castle in the Demon Realm. At the time, I had been unsure of the exact length of my duration, but I was able to piece it together when I looked back on these events.

My time in the Demon Realm was surprisingly beneficial. While I was aware on some level that I was not as strong or as healthy as I was in the sunlit Eden of Hylia's realm, I had recovered greatly from the psychological and spiritual strains I had undergone, on my quest as the Goddess's Chosen Knight, as well as from my plunge into Shadow.

Maybe some would imagine I was unfulfilled, being locked in a castle with the Demon Lord, but that wasn't the case. I was actually quite content with the quiet life I lived, sleeping in late, getting up to peruse through his fascinating weapon and book collections, and spending my afternoons revising the chronicles I had written of my quests on the Surface and in Shadow - and of course, my time spent conversing with, and otherwise entertaining the pale spirit.

Though I had originally intended my scribblings to be more of a journal than anything else, my revisions would eventually transform parts of it into a guide, on the actual geography of the Surface, the type of vegetation and sustenance that may be found in the areas, and what kind of predators to expect. And of course, how to eradicate any troublesome enemies quickly. The books I read bolstered my writings and general knowledge; I read of things I'd never learned in Skyloft, of training armies, of battle strategies, and diplomacy. I thought of Hyrule, and wondered if Zelda knew of such things. I began feeling uncomfortable twinges as I thought of the village being constructed on the Surface.

I wasn't aware that Ghirahim knew of my attempts at authoring. He had given me free reign of his wing to do whatever I pleased, and I knew he wouldn't mind me using the scrap pieces of stationary I found in the desks. He certainly never mentioned it. But one day, I went back to my usual spot in one of the better lit libraries and found my scraps piled neatly in the corner. In the middle of the desk was a thick blank notebook, bound in a light-colored wood etched with beautiful swirling patterns. Complete with a set of calligraphy pens. When I attempted to thank him for this, the demon merely raised an eyebrow. "Preferable to you littering up the place with all that scribbling..." I think he said.

I wondered.

I'm positive some part of him knew, most likely before I did.

But it was a strange phenomenon. I had recovered from my injuries in Shadow, but as the months dragged on, I began to feel less and less healthy. I felt fatigued, again, but it was different than the sort during a quest, or when the demon had robbed me of my energy. It was a subtle condition, like I was forgoing a key source of sustenance, some essential mineral.

I had begun to lose weight, and I noticed when I looked in the mirror that I had grown quite pale; my features seemed somehow washed out, drained of their vitality.

But I was happy, during my time with him.

It was around month seven that I began to feel it. A sense of restlessness, unease, that had nothing to do with Ghirahim, or my immediate surroundings. More and more, I would catch myself thinking of the surface, of Hyrule, and I wondered how the village was progressing, if the knights from Skyloft had transferred to keep the residents safe from the predators in the woods. I'd look at the notebook I had finished, and I'd catch myself considering how helpful it would be to them. How I, with my knowledge and expertise of the Surface, would behoove the expanding village.

I felt a sort of pull in my chest, I suppose was the best way to describe it, and more and more, the Demon Lord would walk into my room during the evenings to find me staring out the beautiful arched windows, with my back towards him and my lavishly decorated room. I would immediately turn to greet him as he stood in my doorway, and I thought I could detect some concern in his eyes, some worry – but then spirit would absorb the genuine smile on my face, note the sudden light in my slowly dulling blue eyes upon seeing him, and the concern would dissipate.

Once during that last month, I dreamed of another spirit. This one was neither pale, nor demonic in nature, but one I had seen before.

I saw Fi, my beautiful, faithful little companion, who had left me and the world for eternal slumber in the Master Sword. She said nothing to me, in the dense gray fog that was my dream. But she glowed faintly, pulsing her familiar blue hue in rhythm with the pulse of Destiny in my chest, pulling ever stronger now. I saw the window to my chambers appear behind her, and Fi drifted out, still staring at me, as if signaling me to follow just as she once had before.

When I woke, it was not in terrored sweats, but with a melancholy calm.

That morning, Ghirahim walked into my room and found me wearing my knight uniform, an outfit I hadn't dawned since my journey, as Ghirahim had procured more casual clothing for my time in the castle.

His expression was guarded, unreadable as he studied me. I didn't say anything to him for a while as I stared out the Palladian window toward the gray scape of the Demon Realm; I knew his keen, experienced mind would arrive at the appropriate conclusion.

I spoke, finally.

"I have to go back, now." The sadness in my tone didn't escape him.

I felt his presence directly behind me, and the energy in the room heightened. My muscles tensed.

And pain enveloped me as he tugged ferociously on my blonde strands, sharp nails scraping my scalp viciously. My breath shunted out of me in a silent whoosh, and his hot, moist breath enveloped my sensitive ear, making me shiver despite the pain.

His voice came out in a harsh whisper. "And what gives you the impression that I'd grant you such freedom, Hero?" The appellation stung.

My body was pushed forward when he released his grip on me, rather roughly. When I turned, he was by my side, violent mood having subsided as quickly as it had arrived.

Ghirahim stared out the at the gray land outside the window of the room that had been my home nearly a year now.

Ten months of living in this castle. Ten months of this...easy, passionate, yet perplexing and undefined relationship with the Demon Lord. It had been almost a year since I had seen sunlight, seen the surface of Hyrule.

I swallowed. My voice came out so quietly. "...You know I can't stay here."

The pale spirit turned to look at me. His brown irises scanned over my pale complexion, my thinning frame, the dullness of my blue eyes. It had become painfully obvious over the last few months that the boy who had flourished on a sunny isle in the sky could not but wither in his world.

For a second, I thought I saw guilt darken the spirit's gaze. It was quickly replaced by another temper altogether.

I inhaled sharply, apprehension settling over me as I recognized the foreboding affect spreading across his elegant features.

That last occasion in the castle was brutal. He took me roughly, against the wall, and I got the impression that the green tunic, the chainmail, perhaps, spurred on the more sadistic fantasies he'd had of me when we were still enemies, when he still plotted and schemed in his near-successful attempts to revive Demise.

A/N: ...again, details taken out... At this point, though, Link is on the ground after that last "session" is over.

He was already dressed, staring out the window, looking quite composed. My breath was ragged, pained with both physical and emotional torment; I've never felt quite as used as I did then, rumpled on the ground with his essence sullying my clothing.

Ghirahim didn't look at me. He didn't even say goodbye. He just pivoted on his heel, and glided out the door. He let it shut with a quiet, apathetic click that was heart-shatteringly more jarring than if he had slammed the door with any kind of sentiment.

He didn't visit me during my dinner that night.

When I next woke, I recognized the area of the forest near Hyrule.

I recognized the young woman picking flowers near the Statue of the Temple of the Goddess.

Zelda looked up from the daffodils in her hands, blinking as if trying to ascertain the reality of her vision. After a few seconds, a broad smile illuminated her face, and she rose up, face glowing in the sunlight of the realm.

She hugged me, not quite as fiercely as I expected, and it wasn't until she pulled away that I noticed her swollen belly, and, even more telling, the protective manner in which she placed her hand over her stomach.

I saw the glinting ring on her finger, the light of happiness shining in her eyes, and I smiled for my best friend, swooping in to give her another, albeit gentler, hug.

The construction of Hyrule had been rapid; or perhaps it only seemed to me so, given the length of my absence from its lush, sun-graced surface. The village had been finished, and it had really advanced into more of a town now, with a number of shops and areas of permanent housing erected. Quite a number of Skyloft's residents had emigrated to the more spacious land below, and a lot of young couples had eloped, choosing to start their new lives in the exciting foreign world.

With a rush of appreciation, I gazed at the beautiful cottage Zelda had led me to, in an area at the very edge of Hyrule; it was a bit distanced from the rest of the community, much nearer the solitude of the untouched woods than the town center. Groose had built it for me, Zelda explained, the young man staunchly refusing to believe that I would not return.

I was incredibly touched by the gesture, and impressed at Groose's insight, knowing I would prefer the privacy of a home away from town. It was small, but very beautiful, with a lovingly tended garden, and a modest, but impressive archery range in the area behind it.

When I next saw my old companion, he pulled me into a bone crushing hug, slapping me on the back and insisting he take me out with the boys of the town to the new alehouse that had just opened. I smiled at him, telling him I appreciated the gesture, but that I really needed some quiet time for a while.

The understanding in his eyes startled me. He just smiled at me, and nodded, assuring me that I was welcome whenever I felt up to it. With some regret, I wished I had taken the time to get to know this new Groose before I had left on my Shadow journey, this young man who had developed so much during his own adventures in the Sealed Grounds.

A few weeks went by, and I regained my color, and my weight and muscles began returning. I hadn't realized just how much of my vitality I had lost until I began regaining traces of my former strength.

Almost immediately, I was offered a job as an archery instructor at the Knight Academy. At Zelda's request, I began training the knight commanders in basic survival skills specifically designed for life in the different regions of the Surface. I included techniques on defeating creatures and gave advice on how to best fortify the town while preparing for expansion. The voice of Destiny pulsed more faintly now, and I sensed I would have a greater role in these endeavors sometime in the near future.

Not once did anyone ask me where I had gone, or what I had done during my time away from Hyrule and Skyloft. No one questioned my depleted physical state when I returned, though I did have a number of families invite me over for dinner. The motherly Mallora would stop by to drop off rich plates of food whenever I refused invitations, and Groose would frequently invite me along for fitness and training workouts; more and more, I found myself accepting his offers, pleasantly surprised at the quiet amicability between us.

Zelda never asked, never even made broached the topic; though sometimes when I looked at my best friend, I saw a lingering worry creasing her pretty features, as though she was afraid I would just disappear again one day without warning.

It was on one of these occasions, during a walk a few weeks before her and Groose's first child was due, that I caught her giving me one of these looks.

I reached over, and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before smiling at her. I met her eyes, making the first mention of my travels for the first time in the three months I had been back. "I'm not planning on going anywhere." Still smiling, I gestured down at her protruding abdomen. "Especially not with Groose Jr. on the way."

I was pained at the immediate glow of reassurance on her face, not having realized just how much my time away must have tormented my best friend. It occurred to me now that while I always considered Zelda blameless in what had happened, the Goddess that lived in my friend probably felt some amount of culpability in my disappearance, wracking guilt at the weakened state in which I had returned. Relief slowly spread across her features.

I no longer dreamed of the Demon Lord, at least, not so vividly. Occasionally, I would see him in dreams, but I knew they were ordinary, untouched by the energy of the dark spirit.

It was four months after I returned to Hyrule that Zelda and Groose's baby was born. A beautiful little girl, who they had named Impa, after the same young warrior and wise old woman they had both known and loved, simultaneously.

The celebrations over the first child to be born in Hyrule were long and full of energy. After a couple of hours, I slipped away into the dark cover of the night, making my way back to my cottage.

While I was extremely happy for my friends, the excitement and energy was still a bit much for me; I looked around at my prosperous and content friends, surrounded by their loved ones, and I felt strangely lonely. I excused myself shortly after I found myself tracing the pale diamond scars on my forearm, my thoughts returning to the days I had spent with the demon lord.

I would be lying if I said I did not think of him often; and occasionally, during my solitary walks in the deep forest woods, or underneath the beautiful, hot nightsky of the Lanayru Desert, I would pause, thinking I detected a trace of his distinct aura, felt his familiar gaze on my form.

I thought I felt such an energy as I slowly made my way back to my secluded home near the untamed woods of Faron, but I dismissed the idea.

As I opened the door to my bedroom, I swore felt it again, more strongly this time; that foreign, but familiar energy, emanating from the far back of my room.

I quickly a candle, and strode into the room, drawing my gaze to the corner by my window.

My heart leaped. My pulse quickened, and I prayed to whatever entity would grant me audience that this wasn't just a hallucination, brought on by a few too many celebratory drinks, and my deep sadness over the loss of the taunting spirit.

I clenched my eyes as if to calibrate them. Then I opened them again, slowly, hopefully.

It wasn't a hallucination. There, resting in the far corner of my room, rested the sleek, dark steeled blade I had retrieved from the lit chamber of the Shadow Realm. Pulsing with a slightly dark, but benign power.

His voice came from the area behind me, and I recognized his familiar words, said this time with a benign, teasing smirk:

"Look who it is..."

I turned, and watched as the pale demon lord beckoned me, wordlessly, with a white-gloved hand.

I never hesitated.

fin

A/N: "Look who it is..." were the first words Ghirahim said to Link in the Skyview Temple.

This is officially the end of this story. It was a pleasure writing this, and I really want to thank all my lovely reviewers for your insight, and the inspiration you guys provided.

I won't be starting up any new projects until after my exam period is over in a month, but I'm considering writing more about their...uh...experiences, let's say, together during the ten months Link was living with Ghirahim in the Demon Realm. I don't really have a vision for this yet, but I guess I'll see what direction it takes when I do start writing it.

When I post this story up, I'll make sure to update this story, so all of you fanTASTIC people who favorited me will see if interested.

Again, thank you guys so much again for your support and reviews; I appreciated them more than I can express.