If the Boot Fits

Identity

After cleaning up from breakfast, Link started down the long drive to collect the mail. The sun was low in the sky, painting the big dome in hues of pink and blue. He heard the hens clucking and Aryll singing a lively tune as she fed them. Hopefully, she would stop soon, or Ghirahim would punish her for it.

The mailman met Link at the end of the drive, producing only one envelope from his bag. Link took the envelope stamped with the Triforce, staring at it as he treaded back to the house. What did the King want now?

Link climbed the grand staircase, stopping in front of Ghirahim's closed door. He knocked, holding his breath for no reason.

"Come in," Ghirahim's low voice came through the door.

Turning the nob, Link took one step inside the dark room. "Mail from the castle."

"Come closer," Ghirahim said without turning around in the armchair.

Link closed the door and crossed the room, making sure not to bump into anything he couldn't see through the dark. Ghirahim never opened the curtains, leaving only a small slit in the bottom of the floor-to-ceiling windows to lead Link through the room. It was quiet - too quiet. As Link rounded the armchair, he could see Ghirahim polishing his favorite dagger with a rag. The red hilt gleamed supernaturally. His pulse quickened as he held the envelope out.

Ghirahim made a point of setting the dagger on the side table, like Link would ever want to be on the other side of that blade, before using two fingers to take the envelope. He turned to leave, but Ghirahim placed one cold hand on his chest, halting him.

He didn't say anything to Link as he slowly opened the envelope with the dagger. It felt like he was threatening Link in some way, but without words. He cleared his throat before reading the letter.

"The princess has returned from her travels early. The ball will comence when the sun sets this day. Hyrule Castle is eagerly awaiting your arrival. All eligible men are to attend. Thank you.

"Sighned- King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule."

Ghirahim grunted, reading the rest of the announcements scrolling down the paper in his head. When he was done, he set the letter next to the dagger and left Link to anxiously wait for what would happen next.

"Do you know what this means?" Link almost missed Ghirahim's whisper. His stepfather didn't look at him at all. His heart thundered. "Answer me!" Ghirahim barked.

Link forced his voice to be steady when he said, "No."

"Imbecile." Ghirahim stood, making himself tower over Link. "It means the ball has moved to tonight. My sons will win the princess's heart faster."

Link wanted to scoff, to retort and lash out, saying no one would ever want to be near his sons, but he feared the dagger only a foot away.

Smiling, Ghirahim picked the blade up, twirling it loosely in his hands. He toyed with it, eyeing it like it was his life support, as he slowly circled Link. His cold hands on Link's shoulders made him jump. The dagger's edge pressed against his cheek.

"It's been on my mind lately," Ghirahim started, whispering in Link's ear, "like a python wrapping around my brain. What were you going to do with the money you stole?" Link clenched his fists, creating cressent moons with his nails, holding his tongue from saying the true way he earned the rupees. Ghirahim kept going. "I hope you aren't stupid enough to believe you could run away with it. Nothing gets past me." Keeping the blade pressed against Link's cheek, Ghirahim rounded to face him. It took everything Link had to not punch the man just an inch taller than he was. "Not even the costume you and Aryll are making. . ." He trailed off, eyes falling to Link's heart. "Not even who you really are. . ."

Link nearly missed the depth of this line. His pulse thundered behind his ear. What did he mean, who you really are? Who was he? What was Ghirahim keeping from Link?

The dagger slipped from his face, landing over his heart, snapping him out of his anger. Ghirahim pressed the tip into his skin, almost drawing blood, but not quite.

"I was stupid to let you live this long," Ghirahim muttered. "I was wondering if I should end it now."

Link held his breath, waiting for the blade to plunge into his body. To his surprise, Ghirahim merely nicked him and pulled back, a hand on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said beneath his palm. "That was rude of me." Ghirahim dropped his hand, cradling the dagger. "Such pathetic blood shouldn't be spilled on you." He lifted the blade to his lips, a single drop of red glistening in the dark light. Ghirahim pressed the blade on his tongue, licking the droplet off. He shot a grimmace in Link's direction. "Give the dog a bath." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Link.

Choking back the comments and shouts, Link stiffly left the room. Once the door was shut behind him, he felt himself melt, pressing a hand to the cut in his chest. He pulled back his hand, studying the faint spread of blood on his palm. It wasn't deep - actually, it had stopped bleeding - but it stung. And now he had to wash the viscous dog.

Link sighed and looked down the hall, finding Rufus strutting through the corridor. The mut halted, looked up at Link, and snorted. He would be having a fun time with Link in his bath.