Author' Note:

This is the edited M version, with important (and juicy) pieces spliced out. The original and complete MA version may be found in separate chapters on my profile page at:

laureen-lycan . Deviant art dot com slash gallery

Takes place a few months after Link and Zelda's victory over Demise in Skyward Sword.

He returned to him in battle.

The first time the Skyloftian returned after the final victory, I threw my noble head back and chuckled, my dragonly laughter ringing throughout the gorge like so many rings of thunder.

"What now, hero?" my voice boomed heartily in a deep baritone, as I floated regally before the victorious teen. "You hunger once more for the bite of battle, now that you and the the Bane of Evil sealed the Demon King away? Or have you come once again to test my trials? While you long secured my Absurdly Sturdy Shield, I have other fabulous prizes in store." The dragon's eyes twinkled with the prospect of once again having a worthy contender to his challenges.

The young blonde, ever silent, nodded once and gave me a smile, his hand gripping his new and, though admirable, rather less holy blade at his side. I inspected the boy fondly, silently approving that the Absurdly Sturdy Shield I had guarded for so many centuries had gone to this young man.

As the rather chatty Eldin tells it, the boy and the Goddess's reincarnation had been hard at work building a new city down at the surface, preparing a community for the next generation of Skyloftians. After those months of battling numerous mortal foes, and facing daunting spiritual tasks, it didn't surprise me that the boy would grow bored of the politics and bureaucracy no doubt surrounding the plans for building Hyrule.

However, wily and mischievous as I am, it didn't escape my notice that something seemed different about the young adventurer. While his stance and posture were undoubtedly more relaxed and at ease than they had ever been during his destined quest, there was now a somberness to his expression, and above all else, I realized, a confusion rimming the blue eyes once filled with fierce determination and courageous moxie.

There was something else, too. A...nervousness...that puzzled me. Surely the victorious Hero of Destiny could not possibly harbor trepidation over the battles it was in my power to recreate for him! After all, the boy had long defeated these foes, what could he possibly be so hesitant about?

Perhaps I was just imagining things.

"Very well, hero!" my voice boomed, and the mirth re-entered my gaze as I sensed the eve of contest approaching. "Are you here to do battle or challenge yourself in one of the trials in the silent realm?"

"Battle," he selected.

I nodded once, floating a bit faster in my anticipation. "But of course, the victorious hero wishes to relive the glory days! All right then...which period of your journey would you like to face an enemy from?"

The boy let out a breath, and something about his response gave me the distinct impression he had decided on this question well in advance of his visit. "The beginning."

"From the beginning of your journey you say," my voice rumbled. I stroked my chin, recalling some of the more difficult of the boy's first foes.

"In that case, let's see..." The creatures entered my mind again, and I presented them as options to the blonde standing before me. "Here we go! These guys look pretty tough. Which one would you like to face?" While I asked this question, I continued examining the boy, his current state of being beginning to nag at the edges of concern. As he appeared to consider the question, my dragonly brow wrinkled, noting the queer expression clouding his features.

The boy exhaled, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening. "Ghirahim." The name slipped out his lips slowly, as though unaccustomed to enunciating the noun.

Ghirahim. I remembered him from my first examination of the boy's previous experiences. The flamboyantly sadistic demon lord with a penchant for flowery dialog, and admittedly, quite a sense of style. I nodded, floating a bit higher as I gathered my magic for the task.

"The creepy guy you fought in the Skyview Temple. All right then, Ghirahim it is!

I raised my scaly arms in the air, and Link saw his vision go white as I once again created the fighting ground and his former enemy.

Strange... I thought to myself as I watched the teen in battle. Usually, the hero made quick work of his earlier foes, often taking them down in a minute or less. But he seemed to be taking his time with Ghirahim. Well... I shrugged it off. Perhaps the boy was just a bit rusty.

Finally, I saw Link raise the image of the Master Sword and feint, finishing Ghirahim with a deft spin attack. I watched as the recreation of the demon lord grasped his injury and panted, glaring at Link, who returned his purple stare with a heavy sort of pensiveness I couldn't place.

The battle ended, and I quickly dispelled the scene, returning the boy to reality.

I paused in my usual spiel, considering the length of time it took the young hero to finish the demon - but I regained my mirth, and boomed, "Spectacular skills displayed once again! It took you 26 minutes to defeat Ghirahim. Your record is 53 seconds." I stopped here, deliberately cutting my spiel short, but the boy didn't appear to notice.

I offered him twenty rupees, fully expecting him to continue to at least achieve the fabulous prize of a small treasure, but the boy declined, much to my surprise. "But of course," I smiled kindly. "Your hero-ly duties continue, even after all the battles are finished and won, I'm sure! Farewell, young man...make sure you return to visit me to keep your skills sharp!"

That was three months after Demise had been sealed.

Sleep eluded Link that night.

The young blonde lay in his bed in Hyrule, staring up at the ceiling with his arms folded underneath his head. He hadn't quite gotten used to the feeling of a bed again, having had little opportunity for a proper night's rest during the months he was on the Goddess's quest.

Exhaustion washed over him, and sharp images flashed across his consciousness, the blackness of the room in his visage occasionally cut by hallucinations of pale, silvery diamonds, and teasing, almost coquettish, demonic purple eyes.

His eyes slowly drifted shut, weighed down by sandbags of fatigue and the insomnia that had been plaguing him for the last few months.

It was there, in the space between consciousness and sleep, that the voice made itself heard again.

"Sky child..." That familiar voice rang in his head with gleeful amusement, the flamboyant demon taunting him even in death.

His eyes fluttering, Link latched onto that voice he had once so avoided – and even dreaded - hearing, willing the voice's presence deeper, inviting whatever form of the demonic entity he could encounter into his space.

This was not the first of dreams that featured the ageless diamond-and-crimson-clad man. There were those other dreams, those that had begun the very night after he met the demon lord in the Skyview Temple. Those awful, terrible dreams, so unpleasantly reminiscent of those he had awoken from during the transitional phase between childhood and manhood, ashamed and embarrassed in his sticky sheets.

He fell into a deeper sleep, and ghostly images of a pale face framed by silvery white hair gazed at him with slyly taunting eyes. He dreamed…

And suddenly, there he was in the Skyview Temple again, reliving his first meeting with the Demon Lord Ghirahim. A familiar aura, a presence without physical evidence felt within the chamber.

"Sky child..." he could hear the demon's voice whispering again, calling him. Link felt the gasp tear out of his chest, his heart pounding with something other than fear at the whispered words which had once grazed his sensitive ears so torturously.

Link turned again in the vivid dream, finally spotting the demon perched elegantly against a wall. Ghirahim licked his lips tauntingly, lifting a white gloved hand to snap his fingers.

Link didn't turn around, though his senses told him the demon was behind him.

"Do you miss me, sky child...?" his pale companion implored with a smile in his voice, uttering these words with cocky, near narcissistic self-confidence. The diamond-clad figure circled him slowly, gracefully, close, but always dancing just out of the reach of Link's gloved hand.

His words wrenched Link's stomach, and the boy clenched his fists, unwilling to admit to anyone, even himself, the truth of his words.

Link watched him, then turned after the pale figure in the crimson cloak once again disappeared. Blue eyes darting around the chamber, Link searched for him…

Searching. Ever searching. Just as Link had been had since the black blade seemingly evaporated from Demise's defeated hand in that last battle, sneaking moments, precious moments away from Zelda, Groose, from his kingdom, to search for any sort of hint that the sword still lived...

Still in his dream, Link turned to stare behind him, finding nothing. Then...

The demon's sudden grip on his shoulders, those pale, well-formed fingers digging into his tense muscles, his perfectly formed body framing the Skyloftian's.

So realistic was the feeling of the creature's breath on Link's neck, the not-quite-warm firmness of his body against his, seducing him, leaving him paralyzed against the graceful white figure even as every survival instinct in his system screamed at him to leap away, up and out of this dangerous sadist's clutches. But still, he did not move.

The Demon Lord removed a hand from Link's shoulder to grip the boy's hip possessively, drawing him ever nearer, closing the space between them. His voice continued, the feel of demon's lips on his ear making him shiver."Sky child..." he teased, and his hand, gripped on the boy's hip, began trailing dangerously lower. "Does the absence of my exquisite physique and charming articulations leave you...breathless?"

Link awoke with a cry, sweating and to his horror, aching, his entire body aflame with desire and a deep, empty longing.

With trembling hands, the teen cupped his face, pushing the sweaty bangs out of his face. Taking a shaky breath, he leaned back into his pillow and stared at the ceiling, continued staring until Hylia's holy light of day pushed away the demonic darkness that composed Link's nights.

I never quite understood the youth's motivation in coming back to face my Thunder Challenge time and time again after the Demon King's defeat. At first, I attributed his presence in my domain to boredom in the now peaceful world, a thirst to once again taste the air of battle – or thought perhaps it was part of a training regimen, an exercise to maintain the skills he had honed on his adventures should evil threaten the world of light again.

But the young man only ever seemed interested in battling one foe. Oh, every now and then he would undergo the entire challenge, battling enemy after enemy until he sought his prize: A heart container, or a small fortune of rupees now and then. But whenever asked who he would like to face, it was always the same answer:

"Ghirahim."

I never let on to the quiet young man of my suspicions – and I certainly didn't breathe a word to that terrible gossip of a fire dragon.

It wasn't until many years later that I discovered how it was that the Chosen Hero disappeared that I fully understood the motive behind his visits.

The second time he came to challenge me was the day after her wedding announcement.