I woke to the sound of knocking, the hollow sound filling Ghirahim's bedchamber much like the light that passed through the glass panes of the windows. Sleepily, I realized it was morning. Arms tightened around me, pulling my back closer to Ghirahim's chest. The knocking continued, earning grumbles that poured from Ghirahim's mouth into my nearby ear.

"Goddess-damned bokoblins don't know the meaning of do not disturb," Ghirahim's voice was gritty from sleep. I felt his lips against the back of my neck, warm against the cool skin.

Turning my face, I was finally able to see Ghirahim. Smiling wearily, I sighed, "You might as well let them in as it appears the knocking won't stop anytime soon."

Continuing to grumble, Ghirahim sat up while running a hand through his unkempt hair in an effort to tame the strands that stuck out like spikes, "I'd much rather go another round with you, my dear." He stood, grabbing one of the many sheets off of his bed and covering his lower half. Ghirahim paused there, looking at me as I settled back down into the soft bed.

I gave him a look, "Even you should be spent after last night, Ghirahim." Already I felt my hips and back beginning to feel sore, and the numerous bruises and scratches running down my body did not help either. "I don't think I would be able to even if I wanted."

"Well," Ghirahim started, but the knocking grew in intensity, cutting him off as he whirled around and yanked the door open to reveal a bokoblin. The bokoblin shriveled under the gaze of the Demon Lord immediately, floundering to find words. "Spit. It. Out." Ghirahim grinded out between his teeth.

Choking sounds came from the bokoblin as it began to back away, its eyes never leaving Ghirahim as it finally squealed, "We still cannot find the Spirit Maiden!"

Shoulders tensing, Ghirahim glanced over his shoulder. I raised an eyebrow in return to his look, not able to keep a small smile from my lips at the news. Ghirahim closed the door behind him, cutting me off from any conversation made. As long as Ghirahim kept his voice down. There was a loud, slightly muffled, "You idiots! Of course you would not be able to find her, she went through a damn Gate of Time!" Any words that passed between them after that were inaudible.

I rolled onto my stomach, feeling out how sore I was and stretching in the process. I didn't want to admit it, but I was still worried about Zelda. Searching old and faded memories, I knew that even for Kallen the Gate of Time was just a rumor. For it to actually exist, only to be destroyed when Hylia's reincarnation passed through…

There had to be more than one Gate of Time. Otherwise, Impa would not have destroyed it, trapping the two of them in whatever time it took them to. Based on Ghirahim's reaction, he did not know where the other Gate was. Good. I suppose it was up to me to keep him from discovering where the second Gate of Time is located. Maybe keeping him in bed would buy Link enough time to gain the upper hand. My hips winced at the thought.

The door squeaked open, Ghirahim strolling back over to the bed and sitting next to me. Tracing the scratches on my back, he smiles with a little too much force, "Are you sore?"

"I don't think I can walk," I grumbled in return, shivering briefly at his touch.

This time his smile wasn't forced, but smug, "I warned you beforehand."

"Yes, dear," I chuckled, wincing as I sat up and faced him. "But I think I saw even you walk with a slightly limp."

"All imagined, I'm afraid," Ghirahim smirks, cupping my face within his two warm hands. "I am far too perfect to limp from a night of pleasure."

I snorted, "Well then, forgive me for not being as perfect as you, but I would like to get out of bed at some point without falling over."

Giving me a quizzical look, Ghirahim pouted slightly, "And why would you want to do that?"

"I still do not understand why could not spar in other ways, Fallon," the small pout had not left Ghirahim's face yet, even after I consumed a red potion and put on my clothes only to make our way to a room large enough to cross swords. He stood in the center, his arms crossed reluctantly.

Unsheathing my own sword, I looked along the edge for any scratches. I would need to take the blade in to get it fixed soon. "I thought you enjoyed fighting, Ghirahim."

"I do, but I would much rather be doing a different form of exercise that does not require clothes," Ghirahim sighs.

Trying to get him out of his mood, I knew only one way to get him to even draw his sword, "Are you afraid that I will beat you?"

As I knew, Ghirahim's sword was in his hand only a second after the last word left my lips, "Care to repeat that, my dear?"

"You heard me, love. You're afraid that I will hand your ass to you on a silver platter," I smiled at the smack talk, missing the feeling of sparring someone for fun rather than for life or death.

"I've changed my mind, I think I would like to spar with you, if only to prove how wrong you are," Ghirahim's smirk was hard, eyes narrowing as he licks his lips.

I raised my brows, "Oh, but first we should set some ground rules. One- no magic or weapons other than swords. All natural, I suppose. First to draw blood wins."

Rolling his eyes, Ghirahim gave a disgruntled huff at the rules, "Very well, but when I win we are going back to bed."

Grinning, I took position in the center of the room by him, one hand clasping the hilt of my sword loosely, "After you, Ghirahim."

I wasn't stupid. I knew what she was doing. And it was working, damn it.

My rapier cut through the air, meeting her shining blade with the metallic clash I loved almost as much as I loved the sound of bones crushing.

She knew just what buttons to push to push me over the edge of anger and pleasure.

Her form was fluid, blocking my swings and pierces with speed rather than brute strength. When she attacked, there was no hesitation in her actions and strength. It was so different from when she first fought me in that glade. I caught the glint in her purple eyes. She was sure of herself. What had changed between then and now?

There were no holes in her defense, outside of the small split-second she left her wrist unguarded as she blocked. For how long has she been practicing swordplay? I wanted to know more, if it was time that perfected her form or talent. She fought differently from the boy, who was strong despite his small form. She taught him, did she not? How could their fighting styles be that different?

It was a puzzle, one that was slowly coming together. And I did not like the picture it was making.

My own perfect rapier moved like lightning, striking her in the wrist just when she was unguarded. Her mortal blade fell to the ground, Fallon hissing slightly as she tried to back up. Always so quick to cover her emotions and thoughts, I wouldn't let her this time. Snaking out, my arm hooked around her waist and brought her snugly against my form.

Fallon looked up with surprise, hair that had fallen from her quickly constructed braid framing her face slightly as her lips parted to speak.

"You're hiding something." In response, Fallon's face opened up, her eyes widening and lips forming an O. "And I want to know what it is."

"Why do you think that?" Her voice was small, emphasized by small panting.

I felt my lips turn down at the sound of her fear. She didn't deny it. "You speak as if I am stupid, Fallon."

"No!" I blinked at her sudden ferocity, "No, I do not think you are stupid, Ghirahim. I cannot tell you yet what I know."

Another blink, but this time I had to push down the anger that came bubbling up at her words. "Cannot, or will not?"

Her voice died inside her throat, and she bit her lip. "I don't want to tell you yet."

My eyes narrowed, and I strained against the pressure to yell and berate. If I got mad at her again, she would leave. I didn't want that, not after last night. "If I win the duel, you will tell me."

"You love to gamble, don't you?" Fallon's eyes glazed over, the innocence dropping from her face.

We watched each other for a moment. It was annoying how she looked at me, cautious and closed off. The other woman liked to wear the same expression on her face. The apple never fell far from the tree, it appears.

Her sigh was the sigh of someone far older than she appeared, reminding me once again that Fallon was not a normal Hylian. Not with how fast she could move. It was a sign that the paladin's blood still had power. I didn't know how old she truly was. I didn't know that much about her, but she seemed to know too much about me.

"Deal. If you draw the first blood, I will tell you what I am afraid to tell you." Fallon withdrew herself from me, the air around her shifting with a minimal hum of power. She turned, picking her sword up from where it had fallen on the ground.

I need to know why she is here.

"No more fun and games." Fallon didn't bat an eyelash as she squared herself up again, her stance different, confidence practically oozing from her body. "Come at me, Ghirahim."

Gritting my teeth, I pushed other thoughts to the back of my mind. She was not going to make this easy.

I had to win. I needed to. I was still too afraid to tell him that I was Kallen. Sooner or later he would begin to notice the similarities, but until then let him keep wondering.

Batting his sword to the side, I spun out of his reach. He was not going to surprise me like that again. I knew that he knew of my weak spot, but did he know of the others?

The air of fun had been replaced by acute desperation. Why did he want to know so badly?

I caught myself using moves that only my previous life had used, actions that this body was far too weak to pull through. I had to remember the limitations of a more mortal body. Speed was my answer.

As if he read my thoughts, Ghirahim found a way for our hilts to lock. Then he was pushing down, muscles straining as he struggled to force me to my knees. My own arms and shoulders screamed at the pressure, my legs beginning to betray me in lowering me down to the ground. With a grunt, I dislodged my sword from his, narrowly missing the swinging blade aimed for my body.

Rolling to my feet, I attacked again, only to meet his blade and dodge his own attack. I was covered in sweat, my shirt soaked through. No way would I be able to last a fight of this ferocity for long.

I would not lose to Ghirahim. Not this time.

Focused on the blade he was holding, I almost missed the hand that reached out for me. I fumbled, feet tripping over themselves. I fell, but I did not fall alone. My hand grabbed onto Ghirahim's own outstretched palm, pulling him down with me. We fell with a crash, but I was the one to move first from the mess of limbs we made.

Swinging, I found myself on top of Ghirahim, holding my sword at his throat as he lay there, stunned. I panted, wondering if this would be enough to make him stop. It wouldn't. We agreed on first blood.

Ghirahim stared at me, waiting for what he knew was going to happen. Motionless, just watching me with a mixture of emotions I don't think I will ever be able to understand.

Mechanically, I lightly sliced the skin above his collar. Blood welled up, the cut not deep enough to do too much harm. Nevertheless, Ghirahim did not flinch. I dropped my sword with a sigh.

"Will you really not tell me?"

I let myself curl into his chest, tired from the fight and the emotional burden. "I will. But not today. It is not the sort of thing you just drop on someone, Ghirahim."

He was silent, his hands coming up to hold me hesistantly.

After composing myself, I turned my face up to Ghirahim. He was closed off, contemplative. He was trying to figure out what my secret could be. "You won't figure it out, Ghirahim. Please be patient, love. I want to tell you, I just don't know how yet."

"Does it have to do with me?" Ghirahim asked immediately.

"No," I paused, "Not directly. The secret is not about you. It is about me."

His face screwed together, trying to process my words. "Are you not human? Or mortal?"

I laughed quietly, "I am very much mortal. Although I have the blood of a demigoddess, it is so diluted it is worth next to nothing. I am Hylian, and that is all."

He shook his head, appearing to relax more. His hands began to stroke my sweaty back. "I cannot possibly imagine that whatever you have to say would be that groundbreaking."

"Well," I swallowed. "You will just have to trust me that it is. Until then, I would very much like to take a bath."

Ghirahim sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "I think that would be for the best. Perhaps I could join you?"

Part of me wanted to say no, but at this point there was no way I could. Plus, it sounded like a good stress reliever after this bath. "As long as we actually get cleaned, yes."

Grinning, Ghirahim kissed my sweaty forehead, "No promises, dear."

Apparently something was messed up when I first uploaded this. Thank you Madylyne Hatter for letting me know of the script problem!