A/N: Weee! My first posting of the new year! Happy New Year, by the way. Hopefully it goes smoother than the last.

Thank you DiscountPineapple, Maybe, Guest, and RavenHairedSpectrobeMaster for your messages/reviews. They help me push on.

Chapter 4

The wide sweeping stairway of the white temple lies before me. Trees, vines, and roots have encroached upon it, have encased and wrapped around columns, and some tenaciously protrude from cracks of the aged stone. The ornate door, with its jeweled bird-like symbol, is waiting. My excitement is so potent, I rush forward without thinking. I forget my hunger and fatigue.

I don't get far before I'm pulled back by my hair.

"Patience, darling. There's still the matter of the barrier."

"What barrier?!" bursts out of my mouth. "Let's go, let's go! There's nothing stopping us! Let's—Go!"

I think some of my hair tears out of my head—I don't care. I rip free and dash to the temple. Happiness rages through me like a geyser, then anger, because I'm not with Link, then happiness again, then—

As I pass the threshold of the temple stairs, white light blinds at the edge of my vision, tunneling, nearly taking my sight whole. The next I know I've run through some sort of transparent white wall—not appearing until I'm right up on it—and it shatters into a million pieces. For a moment I think I've run through a plate-glass window. But the shards do not slice as glass would. They glow, split into glittering white particles that sprinkle my skin and disappear like snow.

I blink first at my arm, feel the cold tingling sensations left behind, then at the ground where the other bits fell, and then look back up at Ghirahim. He watches, expression indecipherable.

I blink again. Realization hits.

"Oh. Holy sh—crap. There was a barrier."

…And I rammed through it like it was air. I stare at the moss-stained bricks as if the particles will reappear, as if they will tell me what just happened.

Ghirahim's soft laughter reaches me, sends shivers down my spine, and I get the feeling I've done something very wrong. The demon saunters over the ground where the white shards fell, and I can do nothing but watch like a hapless sheep as the wolf clears the fence. It doesn't matter, I remind myself. It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

Yet this feeling won't go away.

Excitement is tapered by an onslaught of exhaustion, and my legs feel numb as I follow Ghirahim to the sealed door.

"The door will open if you hit the—"

He snaps his fingers and the red crystal above the entrance flashes before I can finish my sentence. Stone grates against stone as the slabs part before us. A gust of musty air pulses from the ensuing tunnel. We descend into the dark labyrinth, his feet silent, my boots giving the barest of clicks. I don't have any trouble until the door hisses shut behind us, snuffing out the little bit of light that guided my way.

I try to measure my steps carefully. Down one step, down another. But fatigue finally turns my legs to jelly, and one faulty step leads me tumbling head first down the flight of stairs.

The good news: there are bioluminescent mushrooms lighting the bottom.

The bad news: everything in my body hurts.

I'm on my feet before Ghirahim reaches me. I predicted he would yank me up otherwise. He snatches my wrist regardless. "Little fool," he says.

"Yeah? Well, that's what happens. I'm kinda malnourished here. You're…you're lucky I'm even conscious." I sway a little to the right, a little to the left, anchored only by his bruising grip.

He sneers at me before focusing his attention ahead. He's probably thinking how weak humans are, probably thinking how stupid we are. Yeah, well…he's right. Not only can I not think of any counter arguments, I don't have the energy to argue with him. Nor do I have energy to walk, and he practically drags me along with him, uncaring of the rocks that dig into my knees when I stumble, or the dirt that stains my once gray pants. He just keeps pulling until I've caught footing again.

Ancient roots stick out from the walls and ceiling, like the teeth of a great beast. The blue mushrooms glow, their spores blinking in the air like little fireflies. It's musty down here, smells weird, but…it's pretty. Mystical even. I never fully appreciated it until now, standing here in the flesh.

We come to the first barred door.

"There's another red cryst—"

He grabs me. Red, gold, black, white diamonds. The feeling of being stretched and yanked. We've teleported to the next room. Another locked door. We teleport. Again, and again. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't feel like I'm being torn apart in the process, and it isn't long before nausea and a deep-seated ache accompany exhaustion.

"Okay, sooo…" I struggle to keep pace with Ghirahim's long strides; I must stumble three steps for his every one. "Here I am, with all the knowledge to solve all these puzzles, and you're just like," I snap my fingers, toss my head in imitation of him, "fuck these puzzles, we're teleporting!"

He shoots me a dark look.

"Screw!" I amend quickly, just as his hand releases me and rises. "Screw these puzzles, I meant."

He stares, still poised to backhand, and I wait with baited breath for his decision.

I am saved when a replacement for his ire pops from the ground. He slices through the Deku Baba with a careless flick of his wrist. "Must you be vulgar?" he addresses to me as he watches the carnivorous plant wither.

"Um…" I blink, heart still thudding. "Heh. That's…kind of funny, coming from someone who likes to strangle people with their own intestines."

"I don't…" He pauses, turns his head to me, and gives me a smile that makes my spine tingle.

My eyes go wide and I pinch my lips together. Oh. Oh, geez. I'm giving him ideas. Okay, now would be a good time to shut my face, then.

"Regardless," he continues, "have some standards, would you? I know it's hard, especially for one of your stature, but do try."

I mumble, "Even evil has standards, huh?" I blow out a sigh. "All right, I'll try."

"Good."

Something about the way he says that hits me the wrong way. "Hey…I can totally be a lady, you know."

I continue to grumble incoherently after he sends me a smirk and a brow raised in disbelief. Why does this guy even care? Oh, he'll straight up murder people, but if someone dares to drop the F-bomb? Oh heck no. He'll bitch slap them 'cross the room. Or, better yet, he'll kill them too. Why hasn't he killed me then? I can't help but wonder.

Oh, right. I tell him the future. But I don't see that lasting forever.

I glance around, hoping for a trace of green. Link, where are you?

The golden light of the sun stings as we enter the central sky room. I shield my eyes, squint as I look up the great dome, to where the ceiling opens to the outside. A breeze, filled with the smell of earth and green leaves, tickles all around. It is slightly chilly on my skin, and it ruffles my hair, sending strands into my face. I pay it no mind, as my focus is on the great height of the dome spanning stories above my head, making me feel like the ant I am. Even the bird statues, with their pin-straight Ancient Egyptian-like posture, stare solemnly upwards.

"Don't dilly-dally! Keep moving forward."

Ghirahim has gotten ahead without me noticing, and I startle into a jog. I follow the line of statutes circling the dome, glancing up at them as I pass.

That is how I see the Skulltula before it crashes down on my head.

"Ghtk! Hey!" I clamber back, voice breaking with high frequency. "P-piss off!"

My hearts seizes as the giant arachnid skitters towards me, its fangs wriggling, its legs clicking rapidly. I fumble for the knife at my back, only to realize I don't have it when my fingers brush skin. My teeth bare, eyes widen, and I hiss. It has about as much effect as a kitten trying to be intimidating.

The arachnid suddenly flips over, belly up, and a glowing dagger plunges into its soft under-flesh with a squelch. I scramble away from the ensuing splatter, only to ram back into Ghirahim's chest. His arm comes around my collar when another Skulltula drops down on its web, drawn by the commotion its brethren made.

The next thing I know, the hilt of the glowing dagger is pushed into my hand and I'm being shoved forward. I glance back at Ghirahim. I don't like the smirk on his face.

"Go on, little bird. Put your knowledge to use."

Just because I know how doesn't mean I want to get near the thing. But I dare not say that out loud. I grip the dagger, try to keep my knees from shaking. The Skulltula swings before me, legs twitching. The faux eye markings on its main body don't bother me as much as its clicking fangs.

I know what to do, I know what to do… My mind knows; can my body follow through? It has to, I have to. There is a wolf behind me, and if I cannot kill this monster he will know I'm just a sheep. Just a sheep for slaughter. But—but if I can kill, then maybe he will think I'm a wolf too. A mere pup, but a wolf nonetheless.

I push my quivering limbs into action, swing sideways at the arachnid. I jump back as its swaying turns into a spiral, and when its purple underbelly shows I dash in and, stab, stab, stab. I do not close my eyes against the spits of fluid, cannot chance a retaliation.

Its fang nicks me anyway, and blood trickles from my thigh. I stumble away as it shrivels and falls to the ground. There is a ping in my heart, louder than the shriek of fear or rage. Guilt. That feeling is glad I am wounded, and it makes me look away from the dying creature.

Ghirahim snatches back the dagger, a pleased smile upturning his pale lips. "Sloppy," he says. "But good enough."

Link.

Where. Is. Link?

I keep glancing back at the giant door, eyeing its strange key slot. I keep hoping to hear a click, a groan of stone as it opens.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And Ghirahim is getting angry.

"Why won't it open, little bird?" he asks—demands. We stand in front of the golden door with the insignia of Hylia imprinted on its surface, the only thing between us and the Skyview Spring…and Zelda. "Break it like you broke the first one!"

"I can't. I tried. I can't!" I cringe away as the back of his hand comes up. Words screech from my mouth. "You think you can starve me and expect me to function?! You think you can leave me shivering in a cold tower and—get away from me!" I scream the last part in English, and Ghirahim pauses, confusion lowering his brow for a split second.

My back hits the left side of the arch of the golden door, and I stand there, trying not to shake so bad. Fear hammers at my heart and the hysteria that served me days ago is all but gone. I have no strength left to summon it.

My heart nearly bursts as he materializes his black blade. Is this it then? Good, says one side of me. Run, run, says the other. I am caught between the two, unable to move, unable to do anything but stretch my eyes wide and smile.

"Never mind. I'll do it myself."

And then he strikes the door.

The door, not me.

There is a blinding flash of golden light with each slash. Strike, flare, strike, flare. It's almost akin to the blitz of cameras. Such brightness should keep my eyes wide open, but instead I slide down to the floor, wobbly legs no longer able to keep me up, and my eyelids droop. My stomach, twisting so painfully it feels like it will tear in half, is what keeps me from passing out. For about a few seconds. Then I really do pass out.

My exhaustion is so heavy, I fall straight into dreams. At least, I assume they are dreams. Images of my mother flicker, my father's voice rumbles in the background, my brother's teasing laughter echoes from distant times, a distant world. Suddenly there is sunlight, my mother's face comes into focus, and she's smiling, her auburn hair burning bright in the sun as she rushes in to push me on the swing. Swinging, to and fro, swinging…

A golden flare, the rippling blood-fang cloak, blinking blackness as I fall in and out of wakefulness, and then a breeze.

A breeze coming not from Ghirahim's attacks against the barrier, but another wind coming from…

The demon stops mid-strike and the black blade disintegrates. "Look who it is…"

Wake up, I tell myself. This is it. You've got to wake up. Muscles scream from the mere movement of raising my head. One eyelid is still half-lidded, but I'm thankful to be able to open them at all.

My eyes latch onto green, and a tired, closed-lip smile finds its way onto my face. "L-Link…"

Guileless blue eyes are wide with disbelief. Link stares at me as if he's seeing a ghost. His mouth opens, closes, wordless.

Then his stare latches onto the demonic presence that stifles the room.

"I thought that tornado I stirred up would have tossed and torn you apart, yet here you are. Not in pieces." With a sigh the demon lord tosses his head, his attention turning back to the golden barricade. "Not that your life or death has any consequence. It's just the girl that matters now, and I can sense her here…just beyond this door."

I struggle with all my might just to stand up. My knees wobble, my thighs shake, my ankles threaten to bend and throw me off balance. "L-Link… Zelda's, Zelda is… You're going to have to…"

Well, if I could form an actual sentence, that'd be great. But my mind is muddled, thought processes turning over slowly. Stupid, I call myself. How could I have let this happen? How am I going to fight with Link now? I can't even stand without…!

I stumble to the side, legs scrambling like a newborn giraffe to catch balance, and I end up ramming into Ghirahim's side. He takes it like a wall; the bump doesn't budge him an inch, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Yes," he continues, "we plucked Her Majesty from her perch in the clouds, and now she's ours."

I blink stupidly. When I played the game I wasn't sure what 'we' meant. I assumed it was his minions, or even the demon king that he spoke of. But, now…why does it sound like he's referring to me? I didn't have anything to do with…

Oh. Right.

You're the reason he knew. You told him when and where. But what does it matter? It'll happen either way, you said.

Just a game; it's just a game.

"Oh, but listen to me. I'm being positively uncivil. Allow me to introduce myself." He spins around, taking me with him, and my stomach lurches as if I'm on a carousel. "I am the Demon Lord who presides over this land you look down upon, this world you call the surface. You may call me Ghirahim."

He goes on to say he prefers his full title: Lord Ghirahim, but he's not fussy. I suppress a snort. Not fussy? If I don't call him 'Master,' if I don't watch my tongue, he's likely to cut it out— Not fussy?!

"And this…" He squeezes me close to his side; my ribs creak, and then he moves his arm to rest it upon my head like I'm some sort of—some sort of…arm rest. "This is my darling little friend…" There is a pause. A long pause. I tentatively peer up through the messy hair his hand has pushed in my face. That arrogant smile does not match the question in his eyes. "Hmm… Darling, I forgot your name."

I smile back. "Hmm, you never asked for it and I never gave it— Ow!" His fingers clench on my head.

There is a whisper of metal. "Get off her!"

Ghirahim grins wickedly. "Foolish boy…" The demon's voice is dark, amused. "Did you really just draw your sword?"

"Yes, yes he did," I rasp, wondering if I should even try ducking out from under his guy's hand. In the end I don't have to. He lets go, spreads his arms out theatrically as if welcoming an audience.

"By all rights the girl should have fallen into our hands already." His smile dissipates, his arms curl in, his hands twitch in and out of fists in front of his face. "She was nearly ours when that loathsome servant of the goddess snatched her away. Do you have any idea how that made me feel inside?"

My small voice pipes up at the recognition. "Furio—"

"Furious! Outraged! Sick with anger!"

Ghirahim teleports out of sight. The room seems to shake, and my heart pounds. The light in the room is flickering; dimming, growing bright, dimming. Does his emotion affect his magic, I wonder. "Uh…"

And then I realize, hey, he's not near me anymore.

But the moment I go to take a step towards Link, the demon's voice echoes off the stone.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay where you are, little bird. This turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. It would just break my heart if you were to get caught in the crossfire." His voice drips with overt sweetness.

"Link," I say—can I say nothing else? My heart is running a marathon in my chest, fear is tying my tongue. When Ghirahim reappears behind Link, approaching like a cat upon a mouse, I open my mouth to emit warning…only to let out a croak. Coward, I hiss to myself. What is he going to do? Kill you? Good! You deserve it. Let him! Let him set you free from this place—you don't belong here.

"Still," Ghirahim whispers over Link's shoulder, "it hardly seems fair, being of my position, to take all of my anger out on you. Which is why I promise up front not to murder you. No, I'll just beat you within an inch of your life!"

Annnd, the creepy tongue thing. The long appendage wags about. Link's face contorts in horror and he's quick to pivot away from that wriggling muscle. I'd laugh, if I weren't so choked with terror.

It's okay, I tell myself. Everything…everything is going as it should. Link doesn't die here, he can't. He…

Wait.

How many times did I die on my first play through of the game? There was no fear then. No fear from a game I could reset at any time, no fear from something that wasn't real.

My hearts hammers, my lungs fluctuate rapidly, my limbs shake with weariness.

This…this is real.

And then I start thinking about the timelines. The one that sticks out the most is the Fallen Timeline. It was—it will be—the result of Link failing to defeat Ganon in Ocarina of Time. Link…Link dies in that timeline; Ganon kills him. What if…what if such a timeline were to branch off from this one too? Once I realize that, my mind hones in on it with tunnel vision. Panic sets in. I cannot find my breath, my heart tries desperately to ram its way out of my chest, I sway backward and forward.

Don't faint. Don't faint.

"Link—Link, b-be careful! Li—" Oh, who the crap am I?! Navi?! Stop distracting him, I berate. Either say something useful or shut up!

Link readies his shield, blade bared like a great fang. Ghirahim has already disintegrated his cloak. He advances with that nonchalant confidence, looking like a specter in all that ghostly white.

"Link, sword! Catch! Demon! Catch!"

Oh, good. I've graduated to coherent words. Maybe next I'll be able to say a complete sentence.

Ghirahim raises his hand and it glows red, with middle, pointer, and thumb ready to catch Link's blade. Link circles, his sword poised and shield at the ready. No matter where Link goes, Ghirahim follows, walking straight ahead, reaching for the white blade.

My stupor is like a fog, and like fog it rolls by. When there is a clearing, I shout, "Remember when we sparred? Remember when I said you'd fight a demon?!" My voice is weak, but its highness carries and Link's eyes dart to me for the barest moment, widen in the split second, and stay that way as comprehension fights confusion. "Yes, I knew!" I answer. "He'll try to catch your blade, but if you—!"

Dark, dark eyes glance my way. Our stares lock, and those black pits seem to suck out the very breath from my lungs. I cannot speak.

Ghirahim refocuses on Link. "You had a prophet living amongst you, and you never even realized?" He licks his lips. "How unfortunate for you."

My heart clinches at the implication.

"They, they never asked—as if anyone would've believed me." My struggled whisper goes unheard, and I'm glad it does. The excuse sounded lame even to my own ears. Why didn't I tell them—why did I only ever drop hints? Maybe because I was too lazy to explain, maybe because I wanted things to go as they should.

…Because I thought it was pointless. Unreal. A game.

And now Link isn't as prepared as he could've been.

"Oh, yes, she told me. I knew exactly where to send that tornado, I knew exactly when to do so." That pale-lipped smile has never looked so horrific. "You can thank her for all that's happened."

My hands come up to my neck and wrap around it of their own accord. Pressure in my eyes, and then hot tears cut down my face as I realize just how stupid and careless I've been.

It…it would have happened either way, it would have…

Link is backing up, on the defensive, and he glances at me. I expect to find condemnation in his expression. Instead, there is only concern.

"What did you do to her?" he hisses, potent glare fixed on Ghirahim.

Shock shakes me to my core. Blame is laid at my feet and he…he still defends me.

Blue eyes flicker to me, drop down my boney frame, up to my pale face, hollowed cheeks. My hands feel the scabbed cut at my neck; remind me of all the other cuts littering my face and body. My wrist and shoulders feel the forming bruises.

Link scowls. The white blade flashes. He lunges, darting it to the center of the demon's chest. The tip of the blade does not make it past Ghirahim's fingers. It is wedged. Shock flickers on the hero's face, and it is in that second that his sword is pulled away from him. The Goddess Sword flips in the air, and the hilt comes down to rest solidly in the palm of the demon.

My shoulders slump in defeated disbelief. What did I warn him for?

"Hah, quite the sword you have here. But so long as you telegraph your attacks like the novice you are, you'll never land a blow."

Link backflips from a horizontal slash, leaps to the side just as the blade shoots through the air like a spear. He is grazed at the thigh—just below the chainmail—and green is stained red, but he does not falter. He dashes to his sword, leaps for it and picks it up in a swift roll. The battle then ensues in earnest.

I watch helplessly. I watch as the valiant dog fights the wolf. There's so much I want to tell him, so much I was going to tell him. But I ran out of time. I fell from the sky and ended up by the side of the villain, not the hero.

I was supposed to be at the hero's side. I was supposed to be helping in ways unimaginable. Why couldn't reality ever conform to my expectations?

I stumble forward, a side of me roaring fight! fight! fight! But my weakened body falls to its knees, and a hate burns inward.

When Link lands enough strikes, the black blade is summoned. I watch with hazy eyes, mind scrambling for a way I can help. But I can't. I can't help. I'll just get in the way like a typical damsel who can't do anything. How could I let this happen?

My eyes do not clear until the wooden shield shatters, splinters scattering in the wake of Ghirahim's blade.

I blink. Break? Was it supposed to break? No, no—not so easily! How—? It shattered after just one charge from the demon.

There is red on Link's arm, red blazing a trail across his cheek. Link swallows every one of his pained grunts, strangles them, and pushes on. But there is still red, so much red.

He could die…

Think, think, think! Stop him! Say something—stop him!

"Ghir—Master! Is this how a powerful demon proves his strength?" I stagger to my feet, raise my voice. But Ghirahim does not listen, and Link is knocked to the ground with a violent slash barely blocked in time by the white blade. It is then I scream, "For fuck's sake, Master! You wanna stab someone so bad—stab me! Stab me!"

The demon snarls. "Would you stop squawking!"

It is the distraction Link needs to get to his feet.

Streaks of the white blade, streaks of the black. Metal collides in high-pitched pings, swords scrape and shriek against each other. Diamond fractals spray at strikes and teleportation. The crimson-glow daggers; Link deflects them with a swipe of his sword, and… They hurt Ghirahim. It's not just the Goddess Sword. 'Master' can be hurt with his own daggers. My mind latches onto that information, hides it away. How could I forget?

Ghirahim staggers back, wipes his chin with the back of his hand. But he still stands tall, and he does not bleed like Link.

"Well… You put up more of a fight than I thought possible out of a boy like you. But don't clap for yourself quite yet. That sword of yours is the only reason you still live. I fear I spent far too long teasing and toying with you. The girl's presence has all but faded from this place… No reason to linger here. Goodbye, boy from the sky. Run and play this time. But cross me again, and you're dead."

He moves the black blade in an arch, a trail of black mist following in its wake. There is a metallic echo, and he disappears with the diamond fractals.

I blink at where he stood. Nothing but the empty stone floor meets my eyes.

My brain takes a picture of it, eyelids shuttering like a camera.

Realization slowly dawns as golden light returns to the room, free from the evil presence that pushed it away. My stare locks with the blue of Link's. Relief floods his face with a smile and he starts jogging (limping, he's limping) towards me. When it fully sinks in that I'm still here, I can't help but smile in turn. I wobble forward, too relieved to care about hiding the tear streaks on my face.

"You dick," I say. "Were you even looking for me? W-was anyone?"

Link slows, wincing as he draws nearer. "What? Of course we were. Everyone was. Just...not down here. We weren't sure where you went. But that's not important right now. Kya, are you all ri— Wait, that's a stupid question, isn't it?"

I laugh, the warbling sound tinkling off the stone walls. "Yeah. But I should be asking you that. I wish I had some red potion to give y—"

Diamonds explode in my peripheral, and a pale arm snakes around my shoulders.

My wide, horror filled eyes are mirrored in Link's.

"Forgot this," says Ghirahim as he snaps his fingers and once again teleports. This time with me in tow.

My resounding "Dammit!" echoes in the stone room, pelts its walls like fists against a cage, and it is the only part of me that stays behind with Link.

A/N: I told myself I couldn't take a shower until I got this done. It's done now, so... *runs to shower*

Thank you for reading.