A/N: Thank you Moon ninja Luna, Mokki Takashi, PokemonTrainer4700, Voidlash, Lily, Onoskelis, Alter Ego Bob, Ambiguous Cake, and YlvaWolf for the reviews and encouragement last chapter. I hadn't planned to post this chapter until later in the week, but I was able to get it done early! I hope you like it.

Chapter 13

Distrust. Wariness. Fear. These things should always be at the edges of my mind, should always hold weight in my considerations. But one day I wake up with a jolt, fear creeping up my spine, spreading through me like whips of lightning. Realization crests after a dream of comfort and warmth—two feelings that have no place among the enemy. I should have been wary from the very beginning. But I never gave thought to it, didn't think I, of all people, could possibly…

I didn't think, with all my knowledge, I could fall into that trap.

I smile with Shii, I giggle with Essil. I curl up in my furs at night and feel no fear. Because Shii watches over me. I whisper to her in the darkness when I can't sleep, she whispers back in soothing tones. I am…I am lulled to sleep by her voice.

I feel safe.

When did I stop being afraid? When did I become friendly with the enemy? She is my captor! Though she merely follows orders, she is still my warden, and I her prisoner. How could I…? How could I have let her under my guard?

Get out! a voice roars deep within me. Get! Out!

I do. I am able to do so because not only has Shii gotten under my guard, but I have gotten under hers. She left the door unlocked, unchecked.

I rush down never-ending halls and twisting turns, the writhing shadows of the torchlights reaching out to grab me. Statues of unknown beasts snarl down at me in their forever frozen rage. I run from them, run from shadows and stone. But really I run more from myself, and from the feelings I should have never let form.

They're not your friends, they're not your friends…

The shadows are moving.

The hissing, cough-like shouts of the Lizalfos can be heard from every direction, echoing down every corridor. They are yelling to each other, calling out orders, calling for aid. I run faster, boots clicking until I pull them off, stumbling because I keep moving, and carry them. My bare feet get me going silently.

The shadows are getting closer. They move in the shapes of towering dragons and crawling lizards.

I duck and hide behind one of the snarling beast statues. I hold my breath and count the beats of my heart. …Too fast to count them all.

They dash past, a cluster of them. A couple stragglers hesitate by the statue where I hide. They are like a pack of raptors sniffing and tasting the air. I pray they cannot hear the pounding in my chest.

I release my breath slowly, disbelief giving way to respite when they move on, running down the halls after their comrades.

And then a hand grabs me, and I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. I am spun and yanked around to face blazing yellow eyes.

"Are you trying to get me killed?!" Shii hisses. "Do you have any idea what my lord would do if I lost you? My head! It would be my head!"

I clutch my boots to my chest like they are shields. "I…I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Shii lurches, needle fangs bared in my face. "Sorry doesn't stop my head from rolling!"

In my panic I did not think of the consequences. I did not want to. She is my warden. Not my friend.

Shii drags me back up to the tower, claws digging painfully into my shoulder. She throws me into the barren room and slams the door shut, a loud click! resonating.

I return to my furs, sit there in painful silence.

What's wrong with me? Do I not care about Shii? It is the ewe that cries it. It is the she-wolf that lowers her head and trudges on despite her regretful heart. Maybe it's the stress of it all, the wrongness of the entire situation. I keep telling myself what I must do, but now that fear has restarted, it refuses to ebb. This wouldn't be an issue if only I was at the side of the hero, and not stuck keeping an eye on an embodiment of evil. But I wasn't allowed to choose.

I curl up my knees and bury my face in my legs. Hot pressure builds up in my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, refusing to let tears leak. This isn't how it was supposed to be. I'm not supposed to be here. Not in this tower, and not in this world. I want my family back. I want my mother. But she is gone with the rest of them. I thought her spirit had come to see me, but it was a lie of the fever. It wasn't my mother I smiled at. It wasn't my mother who I begged to stay at my side. It was Ghirahim.

Pale hair… Fingers of ice on my burning forehead… A sharp voice telling me to fight… Not my mother…

I curl in tighter on myself. What's going to happen to me? What trickery will my mind succumb to?

Will I stop fearing him next? Will I wholly and truthfully begin to call him 'Master'?

I can't let it happen.

When the Lizalfos switch guard duty, I try again. I call for help, wait for the new Lizalfos to enter. Feebly, I ask her for water, and then clutch my middle and fall to the floor, squirming and crying. The Lizalfos rushes out, slamming the door behind her. There is no click of a lock. But instead of running out, I wait like a good girl. When the Lizalfos returns with water, I take it gratefully, drink it all, and curl up to 'sleep'. The Lizalfos backs out quietly.

She is either appeased by my show of weakness, or she isn't one of the brighter ones. There is no click of a lock this time either, and when I hear the scuffle of her scaled feet, leaving to switch duties once again, I take my chance.

I am quieter this time, leave my boots with my furs, and it takes longer for them to even realize I'm gone. I keep my panic under wraps this time around, turn a shrewd eye on my surroundings, try to mark my way by the statues and differentiating stone of the corridors.

I avoid the shadows when they move. I ignore the cry of the ewe. I must be the wolf. I…don't know what else to do. I don't wanna sit in that tower anymore. I don't want to just sit compliant and let my mind be warped by emotional fallacies.

It's just…far too much like…

That other tower…that skyscraper…where nobody was ever home.

I clamp the thought off. I can't go down that road now.

Traversing the castle is like meeting dusk and dawn, going from dark and dreary in some parts to light and airy in others. I come from a hall of nearly black stone, accented with teeth shining metallically at both the base and crown of the walls, and drift into a hall of beige stone, decorated with gold trimmings in the shape of wind spirals. I go from no windows to a hall lined with them, stained glass shining dimly with what little light there is outside. Geometric patterns line the glass. Purple octagons, red triangles, green rectangles, spirals and waves, lines and curves. Glimmering glass, casting their colored lights on the opposite wall.

The light gets brighter. There are torches now too, dispelling any shadow there might have been.

There are mirrors, reflecting, making the inside seem as bright as a sunny Skyloft day.

My breath is caught in my throat. Ancient writings I cannot read are etched in the stone, glow as I get closer, fade as I move farther. The color they glow is in accordance with the colors of the stained-glass lining opposite of them.

"Enjoying your tour, darling?"

I must leap six feet in the air; that's what it feels like my heart does. But no, my feet are still planted firmly on the floor. My joints feel stiff as I turn to face him.

Ghirahim stands at the end of the hall, bright white in the glow. He's wearing that smug smile, eyes half-lidded, brow raised as if he's expecting something.

Then I realize he asked me a question. Is he actually expecting me to answer?

"Not going to my room!" I bark out like some temperamental child, before turning on my heel and bolting.

It's a dumb decision, I realized it before I even started running. But my legs are already working and it's too late now.

His laughter rings out through the grand hallway. "Oh, I wondered when you would try to run!"

I'm surprised when he doesn't catch me right away. The echoes of diamond fractals sound all around me. He teleports, to the left, to the right, above, behind, making me pivot each time in avoidance. His laughter tangles in.

Suddenly I'm slammed against the wall face first, held there by the hand at the nape of my neck and the hips pressed to my backside. I fight for all of three seconds, ceasing when he excitedly whispers, "Struggle, darling, struggle!"

And then I am as still and quiet as the light reflecting off the ancient stone etchings. And I smile to myself, despite the quivering in my limbs, because I won't give him what he wants, and because now, with my heart beating wildly, I know…

I'll never stop fearing him.

Shii won't even leave me alone on the toilet anymore. The door quakes as she raps violently on it. "You better still be in there!"

I finish my business, frowning. "Oh what am I going to do, Shii? Escape through the pipes? Bust through the stone walls like the freaking Kool-Aid Guy?! OH YEAH!"

The knob rattles, the door shakes, and I slam my feet against the wood, barring it from opening just in the nick of time.

"I was frickin' kidding!"

Shii rams into the door, and my legs nearly buckle from the shock.

"I'm serious!" My voice takes a high note of desperation. The last thing I want is to be dragged off the toilet—talk about humiliating! "I'm not going anywhere—just chill out! Stop that! I said stop!"

The door ceases its pounding pressure. It goes silent. Too quickly, too suddenly.

I finish up quickly, crack the door open and peer out. The hall is empty. I look left and right, but there is no sign of her.

What the heck? Why would she just up and disappear?

Regardless, I take the chance when I have it. I run…

And I quickly learn that's what he wanted.

He lets me catch glimpses of him. He lets me hear the echoes of his teleportation. And when all is quiet, he lets me fester in trepidation, taking corners and turns at random in my haste. The panic of the ewe, while the she-wolf howls for me to turn and fight. When the blare of fear calms, I consider it, only to realize I have no weapon. Where's the kitchen again? There are knives in the kitchen.

Too many halls, too many turns. I can't find my way, so I try hiding instead.

But there's no hiding from him. I should know that better than anyone.

He can sense auras, remember, stupid? I tell myself. Of course he finds me and drags me out by my hair and laughs triumphantly, eyes gleaming, tongue licking his lower lip.

He lets go of me, smiles and flips his hair, gesturing coyly with his chin. He lets me run past him, he lets me try again.

It's a game to him. Hide and seek.

But I can't hide, only run. Run, run, run until I can't feel my legs and my lungs threaten to blow out. He can sense my aura. How am I supposed to hide from that? I remember something Link said, out in front of the Earth Temple. Wait here, he said. Hide. I'll be back for you. I don't think either of us realized the stupidity of those words until later.

There's no hiding from something that can sense your very life force, spirit, or whatever 'auras' are.

But then I remember something, something Ghirahim himself said. Do you have any idea how tedious it is to find a bug in a temple that size? Hmm? How can your aura be as large as the goddess's one moment and then be smaller than an insect's in the next?

Smaller than an insect's…

How did I do that?

As I run, stumbling more and more with growing fatigue, I try to think of when it could have happened. Obviously my aura was big when I was out front of the temple, that's why he never came out to look for me. He knew I was there. It's when I 'disappeared' inside the temple that I need to wonder about. What was it? What changed?

I don't figure it out in time. He gets me, and I cannot even scream when he does.

We don't talk much anymore, Shii and me… I suppose that's what I should expect. And it's what I should want. It doesn't make it hurt any less. But it's how it should be, isn't it? Captor and captive aren't supposed to chat like buddies. And yet…I find myself wondering if maybe I should've let myself live on in the delusion. It would've been easier that way.

Shii looks at me like she's disgusted, betrayed.

The feeling gets worse, tightens like a coiling snake.

It's not my proudest moment when I break down and cry, telling her I'm sorry like a blabbering idiot.

She scoffs and crosses her arms, looks pointedly away.

I regain control of myself and keep my eyes on the floor. She doesn't talk to me anymore—no one does, and once again it is just me and the ticking clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock, somewhere deep in my head. I start rocking back and forth to take my mind off it.

Darkness and dim light. It is the next day when Shii plops a bucket of soapy water in front of me. I raise my head, glare through the mess of my hair with reddened, sore eyes. It is the only way I can shield the hope brimming in them.

"You smell," is all she says. But perhaps there is a softening in her glower. I cannot tell, she turns her head away too quickly and marches back to the door.

My reflection looks back at me.

Again I study my face. The red burns are all but gone. Little pinkish marks, barely discernable, are all that remain in testament to the wounds I bore. Soon even those will be gone. Maybe in the next day. I touch the skin, see flashes of the face that used to be. I shouldn't complain really. It's been like this for two decades. You'd think I'd get over it. But I haven't. And I don't. I just…don't.

But there is solace wavering there in the water. Hair and eye color are about the same, perhaps a few shades lighter, not much. Same pastel skin, hues of pink at the nose and ears… Reminds me of cold winter walks in the city, bundled in a parka, hands stuffed in pockets, back against the snow blowing in the wind.

My hand reaches up and traces my ears—probably the biggest solace of them all.

To have these human ears like yours, and not the pointed ones of those strangers… I smile, my reflection smiling back for the first time in this life. What would you say if you could see me now? "Dummy…just jump out the window and stick it to them. They can't pull prophecies from the dead." That's what you'd say, isn't it?

I laugh at your imagined voice. Then I imagine you're here next to me, laughing with me, laughing at the entire situation because, because it's just so ridiculous, isn't it?

"Little bird…"

My head jerks up.

Ghirahim stands in the room. I didn't even hear the door open. Maybe he teleported in, but why didn't I hear that either? He regards me quietly for a few moments. Then, "I know your appearance is laughable, but I didn't think it was that laughable." There is a suspicious glint in his dark eyes, suspicious and…frightening.

The feral smile comes out before I can think to stop it. Only the expression is only half complete. Teeth bared, yes, but my eyes are nowhere near wild. They are glazed with nothingness instead. And I think it unsettles him for a second. Just a split second, where his eyes are narrowed to slits.

Then his smug smile is back and his arrogant air chases away any thought I may have had towards his discomfort. "I have a present for you, darling."

"Oh…goody." My voice is dull, does not match the feral smile.

Cold fingers on my face, gripping my chin. He makes me look him in the eye. "Whatever slump you're in, I want you to pull yourself out of it. Now."

I don't know why those words make me so angry, why they have my blood boiling and my teeth seething. I lunge to my feet and slam both my palms into his chest, stubbing my toe on the bucket in the process, and it creaks as it skids on the floor.

I must be an idiot, I must be a blind fool, because my actions do nothing. Nothing but make him snarl and snatch my wrists in bruising grips. The pain snaps into me, makes me freeze up and tremble. But my teeth remain bared. My eyes widen with glaring fire. White fire. White, white, at the edges of my vision.

"Kya!" The command is in his tone, an edge of warning.

And then it stops. It stops because I feel it building up in my eyes. No, no, no! Don't cry, don't cry! Not in front of him, not in front of him, please, please!

I slam my eyes shut, but it cuts a path down my cheek regardless, soft and warm. I grimace at my failure, hang my head, try to yank my arms from his hands. But I cannot even use the word 'yank' to describe it. That would imply I am able to move my arms at least an inch. His stilling hold does not allow for even a centimeter. I droop, defeated, and my forehead finds its way to the red velvet covering his chest.

He transfers my wrists to one hand. His hands may be slender, slightly feminine, especially with those dainty gloves, but are still large enough, strong enough, to hold both wrists of mine as if they are mere bird bones in comparison. His other arm comes around my shoulders, and he holds me to him, traps me in stillness. "Breathe," he says, and only then do I realize I'm not. His tone takes on a roughness. "I said breathe."

I gasp in, and he bends closer to me, corner of his mouth pressing to my temple. He brushes closer still, curtain of hair sliding until his rounded ear is touching mine. The touch, the connection of a humanity that I am familiar with, that I miss all too much, brings down a calm over me, and my breaths slow, even out.

"…Are you done with your little tantrum?" His voice is quiet, the usual sharpness of it dulled.

When I give a groan in response, he takes it as an affirmative.

He pulls back, smiles down at me. "Mmm, good! Now, remember when—"

I said you'd deafen yourself with the sound of your own screams? plays in my head, and I can't help but cringe.

"—I said I'd deal with your misfit wandering? Well, you've gotten very good at wandering lately, so I thought now would be the best time to give you this."

Before I can question or even look up, he lets go of my wrists and slaps something around my neck. It clicks solidly in place. I stumble away and try to look down, and my fingers hook into something cold and metallic. "What the—?! What?"

I dive to my knees, look into the water in the bucket.

Gold circles my neck and a red diamond accented by a glittering white spray of tiny crystals rests at my throat. The shining band is no wider than my index finger, the jewel no larger than the nail of my thumb, but even so it is eye-catching, the white crystals like far off stars surrounding a red sun, a flash of color that demands the attention of any who look my way.

I try pulling at it, I try finding its clasp, but it is somehow a solid piece all the way around. "What—what— Get it off!"

Ghirahim runs his hand over his hair. "Pull at it all you like. It's there to stay. What's wrong?" he coos, smile widening. "Don't you like your new collar?"

I glare and curl my lip. "Collar? I'm not your dog!"

"Of course not," he says, spreading his arms out to me as if preparing for an embrace, "you're my little bird!"

I scramble away, ever tugging at the band. "What's it for? Why'd you put it on me?"

"You'll see, darling." He smiles, eyes glinting. "You'll see."

A/N: They say fear is an important survival mechanism. I wonder how long Kya will hold onto hers.