You couldn’t remember falling asleep. You could barely even remember the first few cuts the demon had made on your skin as you woke to the adequately furnished room you never remembered seeing before. All you recognized was the spacious amount of bedding and how you didn’t hurt one bit… And despite the fact that you were awake- your limbs felt heavy and tired… But not pained… In fact you felt somewhat comfortable, despite the circumstances.
But what have we learned from being comforted despite your gut telling you that you shouldn’t be? Ever cautious you sat up, looking yourself over. There didn’t appear to be any scars on your arms or legs- no cuts, no burns, nothing at all… But you were naked- and you suspected that at least… If you had been cut into or burned the other day being exposed would be the best way to treat the wounds, wouldn’t it?
Despite wanting to go back to sleep you stood, pulling the lush blankets from the bed covering your cold and groggy body to the arched windows on the left side of the room. You peered out into dark, over-grown trees and a high afternoon sun, no ocean in sight.
You definitely weren’t home. You craned your stiff, but not painful neck over your shoulder to examine the room around you. Head to toe the places was built out of old stone masonry, and as you had noted before- the bed was large and almost gaudy to an extent, by far the largest thing in the room. There wasn’t much else in the room, candles on the walls, and a small wardrobe (open with nothing inside it seemed), and a mirror hanging from the wall adjacent to the foot of the bed- large, but undemanding of attention.
Well, you knew where your next stop was immediately. The mirror would give you a better look at yourself, and give you the opportunity to access the situation. Walking to the mirror you dropped the blanket to the floor and looked yourself over.
Not a single burn or cut, and your hair was oddly well-kept for someone who had been in a fire… You were completely unharmed. Even your ankle didn’t hurt, or looked like it had been at any point…. But what was that thing around your neck?
You lifted a hand to tug at the tightly-fitting, orange-fabric choker around your neck, surprised you hadn’t noticed it before. You tugged and worked its way around your neck when it didn’t rip off immediately, only to discover it didn’t seem like it had any seams- like it was never meant to come off. Like it was part of you.
A warning chill shook through your body, it distracted you for a moment before you came to the obvious conclusion- you had to remove the necklace… And there was nothing in your room, nothing at all to help you remove it.
Quickly, you gathered up your blanket and wrapped it around yourself, feeling eyes that weren’t really there were all over you, and you walked quietly on the cold cobbles to the door on the next wall, and carefully opened it.
It had been unlocked, thank the goddess, and you quietly walked along the other stone hallway, looking curiously out of the windows- hoping to find an exit at some point, and then secondly a means to release this necklace from your neck.
You felt the eerie feeling again from before, and almost without realizing it- turned the other way, down the other side of the hall and down some stairs into what appeared to be the main hall- and the large wooden doors leading out had been blocked off by a grim barbed gate- sealed off to you as a means of exit.
Carefully holding the blanket to yourself, you made a turn into one of the other rooms- maybe there’d be a window, or at the very least something to cut the necklace off. Surely, you couldn’t be here alone… But now was not a time to be with someone else- you were naked, afraid, and certainly confused as to what you were doing here in the first place, wherever here was.
Without thinking twice you opened the double-doors to the left of the main entrance and gasped at the sight before you. Not only did you gasp, you fell backwards and scrambled away as fast as you could.
Ghirahim gave you a dissatisfied look when he saw you open the door from a large table in the center of the room. The pen in his hand vanished into a cascade of diamonds as he gave you a glower. “It’s about time you showed up,” he said as if he was berating you as he crossed his arms. “I can understand being disoriented, and curious to explore, but you need to make a little more effort to come when I call for you next time.”
You reached for your blanket, covering yourself. He was here? What did this sick bastard do to you? And what did he intend to make you do now?
As you reached for the blanket to cover yourself more you noticed something… Very different now, your skin was a reflective, almost translucent orange and blue color. Like a fire opal… And not just your arm, either. Every part of you was this strange sheen.
You gasped and stood quickly, as he appeared with a puff of Diamonds to your side.
“Do you find your new body adequate?” he asked, grinning a bit. “I thought for sure you’d react badly when you woke, and you would see it then, but apparently,” he loomed over you, examining you like a hawk. “You didn’t, so…”
You in amazement stared down at your arms, and your legs, not noticing the man slowly tugging the blanket off as you stood there, naked, but unexposed to him as a sparkling gem-stone.
“In truth I was quite pleased with the color,” he said. “You came as a wonderful little surprise,” he said with a grin. “It was easy converting that broken form of yours into a weapon… Like a stained-glass window almost.”
The wonderment stopped there, and you gestured to the thing at your neck, giving Ghirahim an enraged, expecting look.
“Hm?” he asked. “What was that?” continued, his lips curling into a smile.
You tugged at the necklace, opening your mouth and surprisingly taking a great deal of effort to hear a raspy, echo-like voice come forward. “What is-“ you paused, having to breathe. “Thiiis?”
Ghirahim swayed to stand mostly on his right leg. “That would be my brand,” he said in a satisfied tone. “Simple, yet endearing don’t you think? It’s been imbued to you…” he pursed his lips slightly. “I originally wanted to have it around one of your ankles, or your wrist, but I thought a collar might be in better taste. You could cover up those very easily, and if it was on your wrist it might get in the way… But now? It becomes you, now.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and began to tug at it again with your stony hand.
“It’s no use,” he said, tone quipping slightly. He was chastising you. “You can’t remove it. The time to remove it was long ago.”
"Coward, I was asleep when it was that time", you thought callously. “Why?” you croaked.
“First of all,” he said pushing you back to trip over the blanket. “I heard that,” he said. “And next case-and-point;” he crossed his arms. “Because I felt I needed to reward you for being ever-so-helpful to me when I disguised myself,” he chuckled darkly. “I don’t understand why you’re being so belligerent… Maybe you’d listen to me better if I was a woman?” he asked, throwing his hair back to reveal Gira’s face.
You frowned even more deeply at him, thinking only on glaring at him.
“No?” he asked, running his hand down his face. “Fine, then…” he said in a matter-of-factly tone. “I never understood the human association with gender,” he admitted. “But it was worth the effort to make sure you stayed the same.”
That may have been why he pulled off being a woman so well. No gender restrictions? It would lead him to having no boundaries as far as gender went.
He seemed to roll his eyes as those thoughts pierced your imagination. “Change back,” he commanded.
You tried something. “Why should I?” you asked in your head, without the thin rasping of your voice.
Ghirahim didn’t seem to enjoy the new-found disdain in you. “Why?” he asked. “WHY? Because I gave you new life, you thankless wretch!”
Just when you thought he’d be done, he breathed in, ready to bellow more.
“I am the REASON WHY you’re even ALIVE. If it wasn’t for me you’d be gone from this world! Likely reborn as some pig in a ditch!” Your mind filled with internal dialogue that ended nothing short of furious- your vision didn’t spin, but it clouded over with the over-whelming amount of pressure built up in your head.
Ghirahim let out a dramatic, impatient shriek when you placed your hands on your head. “I swear! The NERVE of some people!” he tauntingly held up one finger and drew it closer to him, and immediately the collar around your neck began to tighten.’
Your hands shot to your collar in an attempt to stop it from closing around your throat- which even as a statue it seemed hurt you a great deal, and then Ghirahim reached down and picked you up by the neck himself- his entire body turning black and shiny, like yours was, but without any color…. He looked so alien to you.
“TURN. BACK,” he said forebodingly as you found yourself unable to breathe. You gasped and clamored for air, and whether or not it was on purpose was beyond you, but your fleshy body returned in a burst from your rocky skin, and Ghirahim dropped you- your neck becoming more exposed and open to breathing, and blinking back the sobs you needed for air.
“Better,” he said, body doing much the same thing. “You just needed encouragement is all...” he said bluntly.
“I’m going to die here,” you thought. “He’s going to- YOU’RE going to kill me!”
Ghirahim raised an eyebrow. “I very much so would not like to do that,” he said, temper still evident. “But at the same time I wouldn’t want that week I spent slaving away over your body to go to waste… And there is the whole ordeal with it being incredibly hard to kill a weapon.”
But naturally that wasn’t enough for you. “Why did you do this? I’m not dead, but I’m certainly not alive, here!”
For the first time since you woke you heard no snappy come-back from the demon, and when you looked at him, his eyes were wide, and his mouth was pursed in surprise. He slowly raised a non-existent eyebrow and opened his mouth a bit.
“Ex-cuse. Me. I didn’t think I particularly needed a reason,” he said bluntly.
“So you did this for nothing?” you asked in your head. “I’m not some part of a greater plan? No plot to try and cause more chaos and war?”
He scowled, this time it was more unimpressed. “Augh…” he crossed his arms. “If you NEED to know, I pitied you. I felt as though you needed a better life than the one Hylian fate had dealt you.”
Your hand reached to rub your neck. “So you were playing god?”
The demon shrugged plainly. “It’s really no different if someone else had saved you,” he started, pointing it out. “The only difference between then and this case is that my magic is what saved you. I saw a chance to MAKE you live, and I took it.”
You frowned, biting your lip as you shamefully reached behind you to grab the blanket from your bed, and Ghirahim made no move to object- or even note your nudity, he just watched in silence as you wrapped yourself up, and turned your back to him- covering you all the way up past your head.
You had no life… You were a thing to him… You’d be a thing to anyone else who saw you that way, too. You didn’t even have clothing to make yourself decent… What in the world was going to happen?.. But then, hadn’t it always been that way? At least as a grunt for the guard some people gave you some acknowledgment…
You curled up in on yourself and let out a crackling, scratchy sob.
There was a long moment of pause, and you honestly had thought the demon had left you to sit there. “Don’t tell me you’re actually crying…” he said, tone dropping.
But it was no use- you couldn’t scream at him, or fight him, or even make an attempt to run away from him. You couldn’t even have your own thoughts to yourself now since this happened…. You began to shiver and sob distorted, half-mute sobs.
“You are…” He said in an awed tone, his voice suddenly right by your head, though you tried desperately not to notice it. “Stop it,” he commanded lightly.
“I can’t!” you screamed in your head as the sobbing become something far beyond your control in your head.
“Stop it please?” he asked, almost as if using the so-called magic word would make anything he did better. “Please stop crying?” Did he hear that part? You didn’t know, you didn’t care. You were an emotional wreck, and he made you this way. If he didn’t want to hear anything- then he could end you. Save himself the trouble.
“Stop thinking like that I-“ he wavered. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I-… Stop it.”
Taken from your kin and country?.. If you could even call them that to begin with… And taken to what? Work as a servant or a plaything for a demon you once fought? Wouldn’t anyone be upset by this idea?
For a moment the demon didn’t persist in anything, and let you shake quietly for a bit, and then you heard a gentle ruffling of fabric and felt something warm against your back. It didn’t help.
“You know,” he started. “I’d like to point out that I hadn’t intended for you to get caught in that fire… Not really,” he muttered.
“So you just wanted people to burn?”
You could feel his arms snake sturdily around you. “Yesss?” he muttered cautiously, unaware of what answering honestly, or perhaps dishonestly would do. “I made that fire to distract from my ‘brother and I leaving town…” he squeezed you closer to him, almost possessively. “You weren’t supposed to go into THAT tavern, and especially not while you were in a dress.”
You weren’t entirely sure if that made you feel better… Or worse.
“Then why did you come back to get me?..” You turned slightly to unintentionally glare at him, but at this point it didn’t matter. You would have glared at him if your face wasn’t contorted
Ghirahim let out a huff and his lips contorted to the side of his face. “Well,” he paused. “Suffice it to say; I was concerned.” The demon stopped for a moment and snapped one of his hands, clothing- not good clothing mind you- appeared on your body.
“There, now that’s a little less awkward…” he muttered.
You didn’t forget, though. “You were saying?”
Ghirahim opened his mouth again and pulled you closer, now in a more comfortable and unrestrained way. “I was concerned. I don’t believe I should need to explain any further.”
“I need to know.” you said in your head. “You could have just left me to die, there- which would have been fine- but you didn’t. You could have saved me, but left me at the scene… There’s a long list of more ethical things to do to some guard who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. ”
Ghirahim flicked you in the head. “No. Stop it,” he ordered. “Enough about this newly found obsession with making yourself suffer and die.”
You groaned and pulled away. “You’re not LISTENING to me,” you said as you threw that thought back at him. “I need an explanation for why this is… ANY better?”
Ghirahim looked at you with what appeared to be a truly unemotional stare.
“You poor thing…” he said, face unstricken by grief, or pity. “You really think you’re that worthless, don’t you?” he asked.
You didn’t respond, and any thoughts past that just circled around his prior question until he let out an indifferent sigh.
“I suppose it is…” he looked up slightly. “</i>‘Natural’</i> for someone to feel completely destroyed. I merely gave you what you wished for in your subconscious.”
You let out a sickened gurgle.
“Really. I did,” he retorted in a matter-of-factly manner. “As cliché as it seemed you wanted another life, a new chance to become something more than a grunt for the Goddess when see seemed to favor you so little…”
Yes, but this hadn’t been what you wanted. You, actually just wanted a little more choice where your life was concerned. You had been sick and tired of being put someplace to save for later; and you were tired of being easily replaceable- it had been one of the only reasons why you were such a stern-faced guards whenever Ghirahim—Gira showed up.
“I’ll be the first to admit; I didn’t give you much choice in the matter, but I’d have to say that it was hardly my fault…” he seemed to almost persuade you. “I was rushed, and didn’t have time to think through it all rationally- so I acted on instinct.”
“So you made me into a demon?” you asked him rhetorically, though you didn’t appear demonic in this form. No gray skin, no… Well, frankly demonic looking semblance in comparison to him.
“No,” he replied tartly. “I made you into a weapon; a weapon with a heart, and soul, and emotions…” he released his arms from around you for a moment, then pulled you back into him as he stood up. You wiggled somewhat in his grasp as he looked somewhat stoically down at you.
“It seemed fitting. You didn’t want to be human, and you felt worthless… So I made you something invaluable, priceless, even.”
“How did making me a weapon make me priceless, exactly?” you asked, still trying to become more comfortable in his arms. “I can’t even talk properly without rasping for air… I’m not that skilled of a fighter, and now I do believe the only thing that sets me apart from me the other day was that, and the fact that I now can have skin made of… What looks like fire opal… Oh.” you tugged at your neck piece. “And this.” It may have been pretty- but it was there for one purpose and one purpose only; to remind you that you were his, and to remind you again if you- by some chance forgot or chose to ignore that fact.
Ghirahim seemed almost offended, and swayed to one of his hips. “Honestly, do you think THAT little of me?” he asked. “Of course I had to put that on you. For your safety and mine. I had no idea how you’d react to this… Though, I doubted you’d just go on a rampage I had to consider even the smallest of possibilities.”
“That doesn’t entirely answer my entire question.”
“I was getting there,” he said as you cut him off. “And you know what?” he said, suddenly smiling in a more confident way. “Just for your disruption- I don’t think I’ll even bother entertaining the idea of answering.”
Was that supposed to make you feel good? You sent him an unimpressed glare, and really wished that, maybe, it hadn’t in the least.
“Just know that I don’t put time in effort into things that are fruitless,” he said plainly. “So if I saw it fit to help you- just know that there is a reason, and that will be enough for you. At least it should.”
Well, at the very least someone valued you… Which felt like something, at least… But the problem was just what you had thought before you went under the literal knife. Ghirahim was the type to beat you within an inch of your life, torture and maim you, and expect you to thank him full heartedly in return. Could you even come close to trusting his judgment? Should you?
Ghirahim seemed uninterested by the thoughts in your head and rolled his eyes. “I believe I’ve said my fill…” he said, sitting you down. “I do believe the saying goes- ‘once you hit rock bottom, the only way you can go is up’,” he began. “And I admit- it sorrows me a bit to know you think so little of your new body.”
The Demon made an elegant, dramatic swooping of his arms.
“Then again- you hardly know ANYTHING about your body. Prejudice IS a very real factor in this. You simply haven’t given yourself a chance to enjoy it! I think you’ll find this new form matches your thoughts much more than your previous, weak form.”
You gave him an unconvinced look. “How long have you been in my head exactly?”
“Ever since the beginning of your transition,” he said with a flourish of his hand. “Of course you didn’t think much at that time. It was another safety measure to make sure you survived, but that’s not my point.”
You frowned at him. As far as package deals went, this really wasn’t all that bad. He had given you some personal space and didn’t seem to want much in return. But would this whole ordeal last that long?
“Still unconvinced?” he asked you. He held up his hand. “Then try it out…. Change back.”
You swallowed and your eyes silently prodded him for clarification.
“Change back,” he said. “And if you really feel that miserable by the end of this- I’ll let you go… If, however you enjoy yourself- you’re going to stay here.”
The thought of lying came to mind, and you internally groaned when he smirked at you. He could read your thoughts, so lying wouldn’t be a good idea.
He wiggled his fingers. “I’m waiting…”
Torn between knowing you were better off not knowing what he had planned, and wanting to know what he was planning- you changed back to your glossy orange form and gave him another look before lightly throwing a fist at his hand.
To your surprise he didn’t even flinch, and his hand grabbed hold of yours and pushed it back…. It didn’t hurt, though… Not like it should have, especially when he twisted your wrist to bring you down to your knee.
“If I wanted you to be gentle-“ he said, arms snapping into diamonds again. “-Don’t you think I would have specified?...” The demon released your hand with a surprisingly sturdy throw. “Next time I grab your fist- I won’t let go. I suggest you do the same… Now, come at me again,” he commanded.
You stood up again, curious. How far did he intend for this to go?
“For a fighter, you think A LOT…” he mocked slightly, only to be replied to with a fist hurling towards him. Still, only using one hand he seemed to parry with his fore-arm and hopped back a tad. “Better.”
Ghirahim was crazy, wasn’t he? He had to be. What kind of person wanted this kind of thing?... But you readied yourself again and threw your fist in his direction, followed by the other. He suspected this, it seemed, and had two hands on each of them… And then you did something out of pure instinct- and kneed him in the chest. THAT sent him scurrying back, gasping in surprise.
“GOOD!” he called after a moment. “Good, good! Do that AGAIN.”
Then you realized something; “You’re using my thoughts to know what I do next.”
“Wouldn’t you?” he replied. “If you’re so worried- don’t think.”
You threw a good punch or two at him again, and he dodged.
“Woman, can you NOT turn your mind off for a few seconds?” he asked, backing away from each. Past that he didn’t even humor your moves with witty mocks or teases. For each time you managed to hit him or his chest was when you just got… So… Frustrated. At him, at your life, at the fact that he destroyed anything you had left… At one point his body went black like before, and even at one point he began throwing punches back at you, but when he eventually hit your chin and knock you out for a few moments the fight seemed to silently end.
“And I think that will be enough,” he said in a satisfied tone as his more human form popped back into existence.
As you stood up slowly, huffing, and not entirely happy to have fallen for that, you gave him an indignant glare. “Did it have to be a head-shot?” you asked in your head.
“No, but it always could have been,” he admitted casually. “Besides, if this was going to continue; I think we’d need to take it somewhere that could take the extensive damage… My entry-way?” he asked looking to the back of his gloved hand. “My entry-way is not that place.”
You were unsure of what he meant until he gestured around you… Everywhere there were dents in the walls from where you two had thrown each other, bends in the marble floor where you had fallen littered with considerably smaller cracks in the floor that were oddly… Foot-sized.
“We did that?” you asked inside your head. You hadn’t even noticed them forming when you made them, but the fact that you were standing in a dent was proof enough.
“Yes, yes we did,” he said, satisfied by the outcome. “His hallway has seen far worse, I can assure you,” he promised. “Consider it a happy side-bonus for being a weapon.”
You gazed at your fists and examined the back of them… There wasn’t even a scratch on the backs of your knuckles and suddenly that fear for a lack of power was thin as air. You could send one punch to someone’s face and end them if you wanted to… Someone who wasn’t a weapon at least.
“Interested now, aren’t you?” he asked, his smug smile curving into an even more dangerous looking sneer.
“Can I make clothing for myself like you can?” you asked.
“These?” Ghirahim asked as he tugged his red cowl. “You could try, but needless to say right now that you are fairly weak. I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t…” A second passed before he quickly added; “But if you succeed- diamonds are a theme. I would like you to stick to it.”
You changed back into a human and stood before him, not particularly caring what he thought as you thought of something. Ghirahim had an outfit to suit his style; fancy, and unrestrictive… You had no qualms admitting that your style was much different, but you found that being honest and working within your boundaries granted you a faster recovery time for conjuring something up that seemed to suit your needs just fine.
Ghirahim clapped. “Wonderful! You’re a natural.”
It may not have matched his entirely, but it was… Good to hear that. Knowing you were talented at something, and being told you were did make a big difference- maybe more than you wanted to admit on your outlook… It kept you going… But was there really any shame in admitting it?
You placed your hand up to your face. “Do I have makeup on my face?” you asked him.
Ghirahim’s face fell to confusion like a rock in a lake. “Pardon?” he asked, and you pointed back to him.
The demon chuckled. “Oh, these old things?” he asked, pointing to the purple that lined the underside of his eyes. “These are tattoos… I earned them by serving my master.” He watched you take that information in. “Yes, it hurts… Yes; you will get them if you should serve well enough... Assuming that you are interested.”
You looked down at the disaster around you and smiled… Honestly smiled. Your heart fluttered a bit, in a triumphant manner. You couldn’t remember the last time this happened, you had to bring your cold fingers up to your cheeks to calm it down, the grinning just hurt so much. If you were even just half as strong as Ghirahim, and he had created you to be like this, then surely growing stronger would be more than a simple task.
“…What do you want me to do?” you asked, finally looking up at him.
Ghirahim smiled back at you, and crossed his arms. “Honestly, I was planning on continuing our previous spar outside until you fell from exhaustion… Once you are able to give a good fight without my help; I have a task for you, and it would make me very happy if you did it.”
You felt your ears perk up a bit in questioning.
Ghirahim smiled. “I need you to watch over the mother to my master’s child.”
“Just so long as I get to feel this again,” you said, feeling the confidence brimming in your soul. Was this what it felt like? It was about damn time. “Sir.”
“Oh, every day,” he promised. “Every day.”