"You look like you've never seen a sword before, child." The demon sounded entirely unimpressed.

Link looked up from the blade he was examining and cleared his throat. "Well… I'm not exactly familiar with this one yet." He replied with a frown.

The past day or so since they arrived in the woods had gone by slowly, consisting mostly of Link wandering through the trees, trying to get his thoughts in order. He thought Ghirahim might just wander off to do whatever he does, but Link was surprised to find that Ghirahim silently followed him, appearing in his periphery every few moments. Link had been sitting at the platform looking over Floria Waterfalls, and though he couldn't see it, he could sense Ghirahim's restlessness. He paced nearby, irritated by Link's inaction. Finally, he approached the boy, got his attention, and shoved his sword in his hands.

"As my Master, it would be wise for you to know how to wield me properly."

With no good reason not to, they stood in a clearing, facing each other as though to battle – but Link tried not to think about that.

"As breathtakingly stunning as my blade is, I'm afraid simply staring at it will not familiarize yourself with it in the way that you should be focusing on," Ghirahim replied with a roll of his eyes. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

Link couldn't help but be nervous, so as they began some warm-up for Link to get a feel for the weight and length he moved fairly tentatively, unlike the easy sweeping strokes of the Master Sword. Ghirahim snorted in derision.

"How can you expect be a worthwhile wielder of my sword like that?"

"I know how to use a sword, Ghirahim. I mean- obviously."

"It's not so obvious right now, brat," the demon scoffed.

"Look, it's my first time with this thing, and it feels-" He searched for the right word, about to settle on weird, but Ghirahim was giving him a glare that thoroughly offput him from insulting the sword. "…Different," he mumbled.

"This thing is a blade more powerful than just about anything in the world, so I'd say it's worth getting past the growing pains." Ghirahim snapped, snatching the blade from his hands.

"I'm sure it's great. I wouldn't know yet!" Link snapped back.

"Perhaps if you weren't such a pathetic swordsman you'd understand a thing or two about swords."

"Maybe if you weren't such a pathetic sword I'd be better at understanding you!"

He ducked out from under the punch just before it was thrown, barreling into Ghirahim's torso instead to try and knock him over – given how small Link was in comparison, it was relatively easy to hit right in the demons' center of gravity, but Ghirahim was already bent forward so he only succeeded in pushing him back before he got a knee to the stomach.

He lurched and coughed as the wind was knocked out him, air that already seemed difficult for Link to get sometimes now even worse. But he didn't give up the scuffle, throwing a punch that was caught and another that connected – right into Ghirahim's chest.

The demon stumbled back, heaving, and Link staggered to keep to his feet.

"You wretched, loathsome child!" Ghirahim snarled, leaping at Link and throwing him to the ground. The boys' head swam dizzily and he blinked blearily to see Ghirahim holding his own blade at Link's throat.

"Must you possess such ignorance and lack of care in all things?!"

Link struggled to breathe as fear took hold of him, not understanding what Ghirahim was talking about – or what he would do with that sword.

The spirit seemed to catch Link's fearful look, because he glanced from his blade to his master, looking enigmatic, then smiling slowly.

Link noticed something he had sensed, and once he acknowledged that he suddenly found himself filled with the knowledge that, for lack of a better phrase – there was nothing to be afraid of.

Ghirahim started to laugh, and Link only became more confused. Ghirahim pulled back, sitting on his heels and lowering the sword to the ground. Link was quick to sit up, swallowing hard.

"My, my- for a moment there you really looked terrified. Imagine! My master – with such a look!" He started to practically giggle almost uncontrollably, an arm wrapped around his middle and the other at his lips.

Link frowned at him, sitting the rest of the way up. "What are you talking about?"

Ghirahim rubbed his chin as his cackling subsided, eyeing Link with amused eyes. "I just never thought I would see the day that such a thing would happen... it's refreshing, honestly. You are so strange, child."

His usual aloof arrogance settled back into his features, sheathing his blade back within his chest and standing. Link stared at him warily, completely lost on what had just happened in the multitude of sudden shifts in Ghirahim's demeanor. "Why can't you ever just be direct with me?" Link huffed in frustration.

"Because you must learn." Ghirahim replied easily.

Two more days passed in this manner, training, fighting, calming down – just a cycle that quickly had Link weary of it. But the cycle broke on the third day.

Link wandered the woods, just stretching his legs and enjoying the calm of the familiar paths. He settled in front of the pool of water before the Great Tree, idly bouncing his feet and leaning back on his hands. He closed his eyes, enjoying the calm atmosphere. He pulled out his harp and began to play a random tune to fill the silence.

A small metallic chime accompanied by gentle taps of footsteps to the sound alerted him to Ghirahim's arrival, and as always when the spirit appeared, there was a strange leap of wariness and happiness. He tensed slightly, just barely cracking his eyes open, worried what Ghirahim had come to bug him about.

Instead, the spirit merely sat quietly close behind him, letting their backs lean together. Link blinked sleepily, a small smile touching his face, and he relaxed the rest of the way back. He continued to play until his eyes became heavy, and his nap took place with him leaned against Ghirahim's back.

He didn't know what had compelled him to be so easily comfortable with the spirit for the moment, but he liked it, liked the reprieve from the chaos that wouldn't seem to leave his mind.