#first it was ghirazant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dumpster-lizard · 1 year ago

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We need more shipping positivity out here so I'm gonna go off about all the Ghirahim ships I can think of and why they're rad. Now, if you purely like vanilla ships, you might not like these for the same reasons I do! I love toxic and/or angsty dynamics, and love the darker sides of all these ships so I'm going to focus a lot on those parts. I'll look at the vanilla perspective where I can too. If you like this and want me to try another Zelda Character (preferably a villain) shoot me an ask and I can do this for other characters!!

GhiraLink - The OG- I feel like most people who ship him with anyone shipped him with Link first. I certainly did. There's a ton you can do with them man. Link is tied to Zelda as Ghirahim is tied to his master and both are pawns in the greater scheme of things. You can do so many ways - personally I do prefer the darker route that plays into the creepy obsessive side of the character. The softer versions of the ship are nice too, though personally I like it better when you can see Ghiras development in these depictions. They can find solace in each other post game- and if you hc Demise was a bastard to Ghirahim this is also an opportunity for him to unlearn all the bad shit. Ghirahim becoming Link's new sword too? agh, Good Soup.

GhiraDemi: Master/Servant dynamic is ALWAYS a winner in my book. The adoration Ghirahim has for Demise is fantastic, and makes for a great dynamic whether it's returned or not. Again, I do like the darker route here, cause they are both mean bastards- I like the idea of Demise rubbing off on Ghirahim... but also think it would be rad if Ghirahim was deeply disturbed and violent BEFORE they met. Let them be terrible together, let them be CODEPENDANT! The angst potential for this ship is absolutely fantastic, and regardless of the level of toxicity you prefer - you KNOW he didn't handle it well when Demise was sealed, and he was left alone for centuries. I

DemiGhiraLink: Real ones know. Kudos to the folks who have made it their own and put different spins on it.

GhiraFi: I've drifted away from this ship, but it's still the parallels that get me. How they are functionally for the same purpose but so different? Have they always been like that? Which one changed? There are so many stories you could give them that could provide a variety of rich histories. I personally love the angst portion here. Love a good betrayal. Adore the scenarios people come up with where Ghirahim speaks to Fi during the events of the game, whenever she's separated from Link. And, of course, depending on whether you think she was changed, he could realize there's something wrong, this isn't the person he knew, and he would never get the closure of explaining himself. Or, if she remembers... Ghirahim being cold to her to avoid his feelings so he can do his job. Maybe a solemn understanding on Fi's side.

GhiraZant: Two super different guys dedicated to the same master. Both are massive creeps in their own right (see Zant's confrontation with Midna after the water temple), but have way different motives. Zant wanted to be a king. Ghirahim wanted to serve a king. I can see that being a good source of conflict. Perhaps they could find solace in each other if they ever understood they were being used.. or just magnify each other's obsession with their master. I suppose it depends on how much either of them remember. Does Zant remember the end of TP? Does Ghirahim remember the end of SkSw? The timeline of Hyrule Warriors is pretty unclear. Of course, there are AUs where Zant finds Ghirahim in TP...

GanGhira: Very similar to Ghirademi, but give Ghira some internal conflict about serving this mortal who's so different from his perfect master. Would he hold Ganondorf to higher standards? Would he just settle? Would he admire Ganondorf with the same fervor he did for Demise? Or, perhaps he sought Ganondorf out purposefully to continue his master's legacy. I have a lot of thoughts of a sword spirit mentoring a younger Ganondorf though sword fighting, dark magic, and seeding a deep hatred for the Goddesses. And it wouldn't be difficult, Hyrule really does create its own enemies.

GanGhiraZant: Combine the above two and add in Zant's dynamic with Ganondorf, and you've got some good soup babes GhiraVaati: I like Ghirahim, and I like Vaati (understatement of the century). And these two could NOT be more different. Vaati is essentially the hylian equivalent of a fae that decided he wanted to be a god and has a serious issue with authority. Meanwhile, Ghirahim is drawn to authority to the point he "waited his whole existence" for the chance to bring his master back. Now, perhaps Ghirahim would admire Vaati for this - ignoring his minish origins. But if we throw Ganondorf in the mix, I'm talking rivalry, I'm talking petty fights, hohoho it can get UGLY! Good opportunity for Enemies to rivals to friends to lovers here.

Getting into ships I'm not too knowledgeable on --

GhiraZel: Look. Heroine/Villain ships rock. Especially if you go with the HC Ghirahim betrayed Hylia and/or was her original sword. Perhaps he has some lingering regret about that. Perhaps he has mixed feelings about sacrifincing her- or perhaps he redirects his feelings into something more malicious. This isn't a ship I'm personally drawn to but there are quite a few possibilities and Godspeed to the folks that ship this, you rock.

GhiraVolga: Look a dragon getting possessive over what he deems a valuable treasure just gets to me ok. Two monsters, both keeping a barely restrained facade, but one that can turn into a fire-breathing monster at will? It's been a while since I indulged in this ship, but I know firsthand there ARE fics out there that explore this better than I can.

GhiraImpa: Could be an interesting history with these two. Considering, Ghirahim certainly have very intense feelings towards her in game. To the people who ship this rarepair I see you and I love you.

I know I definitely missed some, so feel free to send me any other rarepairs so I can send them some love too!

#I dont really think this needs tags #it'll probably show up in searches anyway #this is a nice challenge to do if youre interested #If yall remember the GhiraDemiLink au im talking about you deserve a veterans discount #its funny- i read ghiralink fics before but it was that AU that actually drew me to tumblr way back

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yiga-hellhole · 1 year ago

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Twilight Forest, Twilight King

or better known in my files as, "we are so back dot docx"

i wanted to write ghirahim and zant bonding a bit but i think i went a little overboard. this is full of headcanons and a bit of silliness but i tried to do their characters as much justice as i could!

(mild warning for some language that could come across as ableist, but let it be known that this isn't how *i* think, but what i think would go through ghirahim's head. and he's a jerk so i don't think he'd care about being considerate)

anyway, ghirazant nation, it's been like a full year since the last fic was posted, so allow me to reanimate the tag. 4500 word ish fic under the cut! note that this is the first fanfic i have ever posted publicly so be nice ;; (ao3 mirror HERE!)

The stronghold, captured. A moment of respite befell Ganondorf’s forces, and Ghirahim soon found himself resting in the shade of the Rockface Keep. He sat tucked away in the corner of one of the storage rooms, sanding his sword back to its usual sheen. It was no place for a lieutenant, much less a Lord, but it was a quiet one. None knew their blades as intimately as he, much less considering they were an extension of his own body. Any nick, any speck, any hint of dullness sent nagging, cringing tingles down his spine, urging him to pick and polish in a metallic dermatillomania. Tender fiber cloths, scrutinously chosen to shimmer his blade to perfection, rubbed expensive oils into the meticulously sharpened edges. He stood up, holding his blade up to the light. A small window high up the wall of the storage basted his masterpiece in the last rays of the setting sun. The sharp hilt scattered glittering specks throughout the room, as if cutting through the very light itself. His handiwork was complete, and he was ready to do it all over again the next day.

So caught up in his work, he almost hadn’t noticed the menacing presence in the doorway behind him. “Demon Lord,” said the figure behind him, spoken with a voice like wind soaring through a gaol door. “I was hoping to speak with you.”

Behind him stood his fellow lieutenant. Zant, the Usurper Twilight King, heralded from a time millennia after his own. An outrageously overpowered figure, but as Ghirahim had noted during their strife to claim the Gerudo Desert, moreso an absolutely raving lunatic. All bulk and aggression, with not a shred of elegance. He didn’t count on the two of them getting along.

He hardly looked over his shoulder to meet his gaze. “Is it urgent?” Ghirahim continued to observe his blade, carefully turning it in his hands. A small peep behind him suggested perhaps he had tilted the reflection of the light directly into Zant’s eyes, and blinded him. Certainly not intentional, but terribly amusing.

“Not quite, though I suspect you may find it a welcome distraction.” Ghirahim’s interest was piqued, and he turned slightly to face him. There he stood, in the same stiff, unreadable pose he was always in when idle. There was no inbetween with this alien figure; either he was perfectly still and impenetrable, or he wore his heart on his sleeve, weeping, screaming, or giggling like a child at the mildest provocation. Ghirahim had to admit - when Zant’s pathetic countenance was capable of holding its composure for once, he was a remarkably intimidating man. Not enough to intimidate him, though.

Ghirahim slightly pursed his lips, having waited for him to continue long enough. “Well? Out with it, then.”

Zant’s life-long role as a servant truly wasn’t doing him any favors. Such a ‘do not speak unless spoken to’ attitude was unbecoming of a King, Ghirahim noted to himself, as he watched the man dawdle before him.

Unmovingly, Zant continued to speak. “You are familiar with these lands, yes? You have been here since the dawn of time.”

Ghirahim frowned, uncertain of what he was getting at. “I have, but the landscape has undoubtedly changed greatly since then. I must remind you, our Master retrieved me from thousands of years past.”

They were silent for but a moment. “Then I will assist where your knowledge fails you. Lord Ghirahim, I wish for you to take me somewhere.”

Ghirahim was getting a little tired of these empty statements. “Whatever do you mean? Where do you need me to take you? Surely you can walk yourself.”

“You have an eye for beauty, Ghirahim.” Oh, were they on a first-name basis now? “I wish to see the Hyrule that was stolen from me.”

Ghirahim scoffed incredulously, turning his blade to a flurry of diamonds with the snap of his fingers. “You want to go sight-seeing after your first mission? You’re ridiculous. You think me some sort of tour guide?”

Zant responded with almost shocking quickness. “Do not pretend you are content with your current whereabouts, Demon Sword. Your metal skin absorbs the heat, and risks scorching your prized garments. You would be as happy to leave this desert as I.”

The corner of Ghirahim’s lips spasmed involuntarily. It seemed this buffoon had some wit in him after all. “I highly doubt we’d get the clearance for this little trip either way.”

“It is the end of the day, and both of us are capable of magical transportation. We would be back before anyone knew it,” Zant bit back, as if he had thought out every possible reply beforehand.

Ghirahim was a little taken aback by this boldness. He did not expect the enigmatic man to be one for such adventurous ideas, but given his erratic behavior on the battlefield… Perhaps he should have anticipated it. The thin line of his mouth crooked into a smirk, but before he could speak, Zant stepped forward and interrupted him.

“Do not get me wrong. I am not so reckless as to abandon my post without a thought. After our victory yesterday, I highly doubt the enemy forces will have the strength to ambush us. Tonight is the most opportune time for such a… Trip, as you called it.”

There was a tone to Zant’s voice he could just not place. It tread a fine line between childish stubbornness, and desperation. Ghirahim knew an opportunity for leverage when he saw one, and he had yet to find his footing in his dynamic with Zant. Perhaps putting him in his debt was a clever next step. He shifted his weight onto his left foot, tilting his hip and idly playing with a strand of his silvery hair. “I suppose we’ve had a long enough day of dilly-dallying. Very well. What did you have in mind?”

Zant’s stance slightly shifted, his helmet tipping upright. He pondered for a moment. “I noticed on the map that the Faron Woods were also in this world. Perhaps that’s an idea?”

“Faron? I suppose that’s a fair choice. Advantage or not, we shouldn’t be wandering into active Hylian territory. I don’t reckon they’re guarding some little villages all too tightly, at this point.” He reasoned. Hot commodity as he might be, he wasn’t enthused to be delivering the two of them on a silver platter. While he wasn’t exactly worried about the laughably weak soldiers that had scattered across the landscape, he certainly feared the wrath of their Master if he were to find out his top lieutenants were acting carelessly out of his watch. He had to make sure that whatever upper hand he was getting over Zant wasn’t going to risk the favor of their King.

Zant nodded. “I recall Faron posing minimal trouble when I had first conquered it.” Quieter, with the slightest hint of giddiness in his voice, he mumbled to himself. Again an inelegant trait. “I do so wonder what it looks like now…”

Ghirahim donned his classic red cape once more, and dusted the remaining metal shavings off his pristine gloves. “I do hope your little acquisition tour won’t waste our time too terribly, Twilight King.”

A gangly hand placed itself upon his shoulder. “It will, if you insist on bickering like this.”

Oh, what an attitude. He had half a mind to zip the both of them to the bottom of Lake Hylia, and see if the moron could swim. Zant either took too long to get to the point, or instantly smacked down any attempt at conversation. He didn’t know what he wanted, and Ghirahim couldn’t stand it. Zant was right, they ought to get this over with. He gathered his focus, and with a fluid, shadow-trailing motion of his hand, the two were absorbed in a mist of diamonds, and sent to the inner groves of Faron Woods.

Strategically, he had placed their pair atop the pillars of an old ruin, himself spot in the middle, and Zant with his heels just on the edge. He grinned unseen as a little shriek rang behind him, the hand on his shoulder tightening as Zant lost his balance. With a grunt and a shrill groan of exertion, he shifted his balance and instead tossed himself to another pillar. Zant whipped around indignantly from atop his new perch, scoffing as he met nothing but his co-lieutenant snickering at him with his hands in his sides. “Ghirahim! What foolishness is this!?”

Ghirahim turned his head, peeking at him from behind his bangs. “Oh, please. A little joke won’t kill you. I see you merrily hopping up and down from such heights all the time!”

Zant’s fists balled under their baggy sleeves, his shoulders tightened in what Ghirahim could only assume was an upcoming tantrum. Instead, Zant found himself trailing off before he could give the Demon Lord an earful, turning his head to the environment around them.

“This is… Near the Sacred Grove?” It was off putting to hear the pitch of his voice drop from that ear-grating squawk to the depth it carried when he was calmer.

Ghirahim cocked his head. He had no idea what the man was talking about, but the overall calmth washing over the place led him to think Zant may be right. “I’m certain this place has carried many names over the years. There was a temple here in my time, but I see it’s been long lost to history.” He turned to where the building once stood. Now, it was nothing but piles of colossal, carved stones, yellowed and overgrown from their years of disuse. Where there had once been an impressive sanctuary, housing secrets and creatures thirsting for the blood of heroes, was now a long, collapsed corridor of soil and roots, stretching out into a maze of trees and bushes. The light of dusk hardly reached here, the canopies of the colossal trees above them bathing the forest into a turquoise haze. He had picked a good place, indeed. Even the Hylian forces that must have been stationed near the villages had long forgotten the temple grounds existed. They would never think to find them here… Well, so long as they didn’t see any scaffolding or talking trees, they ought to be fine.

When he looked to the side, he found that the lower hatch of Zant’s helmet had retracted, exposing the bottom half of his face. His lips were parted in a silent awe, his head curiously turning to take in the area. Though he couldn’t see his eyes, he assumed their gaze met briefly, and the two faced each other from across the heights of their respective platforms. “I thought you said you had been here before. What’s so special about it now?”

Zant gazed at him, but did not respond. Ghirahim folded his arms and peeked over the edge of his pillar as the Twili hopped down to ground level, a dust cloud gathering around his golden slippers. He began to wander, head craned to the canopy. “This place is much bigger than the one I know.” Another complete and total non-answer that was impossible to respond to. He sighed, and opted to sit on the edge of his pillar, lounging with his head rested on his palm. To his amusement, he noticed that Zant was getting a little distracted by the local wildlife, perking up at the sound of birdsong as a small flock of starlings fluttered by overhead. Zant stood at the opening of the great corridor, as if pondering whether to step through. Still, Ghirahim felt the mild buzz of mischievous arcane energy coming down from it, and, gifted as he was, he presumed from Zant’s hesitance that he felt it too. A silent agreement seemed to befall the two that fairy hijinks suited well in neither men’s schedules. Zant turned back to him for a moment. “Do you hear that?”

Hear what? The forest was brimming with life, there were a great deal of noises to notice. “You’re going to have to specify.”

Zant turned his head back to the corridor. “Some kind of… Instrument, perhaps? A hollow rattling.”

Ghirahim strained his ears for the sound, but he heard nothing. He made a mental note of ‘auditory illusions’ being one of Zant’s many afflictions. “I can’t say I do.”

“How strange…” Zant stood there staring for a moment again, before turning to observe the other end of the clearing. Ghirahim did not much feel like playing babysitter for much longer, and his gaze trailed off. In the distance, something piqued his interest. He had heard a long rushing sound before, but had thought it to be the roaring of the wind above them. Instead, he found the source of the mysterious noise to be something a touch more interesting. He swung his leg idly over the edge of the pillar, turning to see where his companion (he hesitated at the term) had wandered off to. While he wasn’t looking, it seemed he had started taking botanic samples of some kind, stuffing sprigs of herbs into bottles that he pulled from… He couldn’t tell. His sleeves? What a curious man. Still, he was getting bored just sitting there, and hailed him over.

“I don’t mean to disturb your academic intrigue, Usurper… But if it’s a good view that you’re after, I may have an idea.” he called him with an idle wave.

Zant appeared plenty intrigued, and legged his way on over, with a gait far too light and floaty for a man wearing solid metal shoes. “I’m listening.”

Ghirahim, in an instant, once again disappeared into a glittering cloud, and appeared beside him. He laid a hand idly on his elbow, anticipating another startled yelp, but it appeared Zant had caught onto his tricks now, as he didn’t so much as flinch. Mildly disappointed, he showered the both of them in the magic of his teleportation once more, and took them straight to the source of his intrigue.

When the flurry of diamonds dissipated, they stood atop a mighty waterfall, sending the flow of a river behind them cascading into a lake below. Though the cliff they had scaled held them several stories above the lake’s surface, the tall trees of Faron Woods still towered far above them. The forest he had known in his days, since the first descent of the Sky People, was like a meadow of sprouts in comparison. He looked to the side to smugly gauge Zant’s reaction at his marvelous ideas, but found he couldn’t meet his eyes. The Twilight King was not even acknowledging him, gaze transfixed on the view before them. A sea of green expanded below them, interrupted only by the snaking of little blue streams that branched out from the lake below. As dusk fell, the first lightning bugs began to take off from their hiding among the leaves, freckling the landscape with glowing, yellow stars. Where the canopy had blocked out the heavens above them, the forest was compensating with a sky on its own, spread across the lush soil. A mechanical whirring sounded from Zant’s shoulders, as his helmet folded in on itself and retracted into his pauldrons, revealing the rest of his face. Wide, blinking, amber eyes stared out in front of them, his pale pupils just barely discernible among his orange sclera. He truly was deeply alien to look at.

Ghirahim sighed, crossing his arms. Now was as good of a time as any to pick at the odd man’s brain a bit. He was a little surprised Zant was even capable of calm conversation. “Is it really such a novelty, to be in a forest?”

“My home had no such ecological zones, and when I had conquered Hyrule, I hardly had the time to see Faron outside of its Twilight state. I was much too busy keeping that accursed princess contained.”

Ghirahim shrugged. It was a fair answer. If anyone could relate to the troubles of keeping that girl where they needed her to be, it would be him. He dread the possibility of having to capture her all over again, but with the Princess’ surprising military involvement this time around, perhaps they would be lucky this time around. Maybe they could simply kill her in the heat of battle and get it over with. Lost in thought, he looked to the side, to find Zant fascinated with a lightning bug that had perched upon one of his spindly, long fingers. Ghirahim hadn’t noticed before the sickly grey tint of those hands, far from the rich black of that impish girl.

Captivated by the creature, Zant turned his hand as the little thing crawled across his skin.

“I see now it would not have survived in its alive state for long, had I succeeded. It would have withered and died like the rest.” He squinted at it one last time, before dismissing it harshly with a sudden flick of his wrist, sending it plummeting to the dirt. They wordlessly looked out over the landscape beneath their feet before Zant spoke again, but did not turn to look at him.

“… Have you been to the Twilight Realm, Ghirahim?” he asked him, a melancholic tinge in his tone.

“I hadn’t heard of it until our Master summoned me here. I doubt it existed when I last roamed the Surface.”

“Perhaps our travels will take us there.”

He was silent for a moment, then continued. “It is a wretched place, Ghirahim. I only care for it through my vague sense of nostalgia, of belonging. I sought to escape it in favor of Hyrule for a reason.”

Ghirahim didn’t find any inquiry was necessary, as Zant continued speaking on his own. “In perpetual Twilight, few is blessed with the opportunity to live, and nothing gets to bloom. My realm is a wasteland, worsened only by the poison and despair the Hylians cast into our lands. They thought it was Hell, and perhaps they had even succeeded in making it so.”

For a moment, Zant looked up to the canopy to observe the last rays of light peeking through the leaves, shielding his eyes with his hand. A twitch of his eyelid betrayed a slight sting. “It is a shame I can only truly survive in it. Even with my God’s power, I can only stand to bask in this light for mere minutes without wearing this helmet. Don’t you think it funny? I spent so long attempting to flee the expansive gloom of my Realm, yet I only ended up plunging the next world I inhabited in the very same curse. Perhaps I need a new plan.” His arm dropped to dangle by his side again, stood staring in deep thought.

Ghirahim scoffed. He thought of many words when meaning to describe Zant, but ’starry-eyed’ was certainly not one he anticipated to add to the list. "I wouldn't get too attached to the view. Once Master Ganondorf conquers the throne, we would have little qualms smoking out whatever resistance still crawls around between the treetops."

Zant whipped his face towards him with a slight frown. "You misunderstand me. I am no fool. I know my Master will do as he will with the provinces of Hyrule. Perhaps… I'm simply wistful for a world where light and dark exist in such harmony."

"If you truly detest the Twilight so much, then why did you invade the world of light with it in the first place?"

Zant sighed. "A basic necessity for the sake of my troops, I suppose. A convenient way to do away with those Hylian pests. The will of my God. I could not conceive of a way to break out of the Twilight Realm without dragging its darkness with me, and so that's what I had to do." A small giggle escaped him. "But now… Now this is no longer necessary! An entirely new chance at conquering Hyrule! Taking control of an entirely new world, without reducing it into a husk of my old home… It is a truly unprecedented concept. Aren't you looking forward to it?"

He stood a bit perplexed as Zant spoke. Until then, it hadn’t occurred to him that Zant had ambitions of his own. He was a fine strategist, a less fine warrior, but had thusfar appeared to be perfectly content doing what he is told. Ghirahim knew that he himself had few plans other than to see the manifestation of his King rise to victory. Was he the odd one out, without his own visions?

His eyebrow twitched behind his bangs. Was he going to let naive aspirations like that get him in a tizzy? There wasn’t a way in Hell. “To think that a man like you had such simple desires. Are you truly content with something like this?” he asked, gesturing below them.

For the first time in a while, Zant turned to face him, eyes narrowed and lips stretched to a narrow line. “Do not think me naive, Sword. Our forces will not lose my loyalty to mere scenery. I simply long to see a different world than the one I know, even if for a short while. You must feel much the same, with the lengths you go to.”

Ghirahim looked at him a moment, suddenly trapped in an oppressive eye contact the Twili normally was eager to avoid. “… My,” he sighed, turning back to the view in front of them. Zant’s stare did not cease. “This got awfully personal.”

“Only because you made it so.” Finally, his cold gaze released him, as Zant turned away to head to the river beside them, crouching over to look into the stream. Ghirahim shook his head, pondering the bizarre turn his evening had taken.

“You know, Zant, you never would have struck me as the sentimental type.” he had to poke at him, a hand rested on his hip. When he turned to look at him, he found Zant on the edge of the river, stood with one foot on a protruding rock, the other swaying in the air before him to balance himself.

“And you,” he started, grunting squeakily as he hopped over to the next stone in the river trail, “never struck me as the type to enjoy talking about anything but himself, yet here we are.” With a few wobbly jumps, he had stopped to a halt in the middle of the crashing river, and looked back to him with a smug little grin. Ghirahim scoffed, eyes widening in mild chagrin, before his expression softened. What a nerve! Not even that green-clad menace dared to speak to him in such a way before. It was so thoroughly unexpected, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Zant joined him soon enough with that ear-piercing chortle of his, the slits in the corner of his lips splitting open as he did. Suddenly, the man disappeared with the sound of a rustle. It appeared he had reached the end of his stone trail, and he promptly reappeared on the other side of the river.

“Tell me of Faron in your own time, Ghirahim.” he shouted over the thundering of the water between them.

Ghirahim smiled incredulously. “It would be easier to tell you, if you hadn’t run to the other side of the river!”

Though he couldn’t see his expression from such a distance, he could still sense the mischief in his gaze as Zant tipped his head to the side, staring at him expectantly. “Then follow me!”

And so, Ghirahim found himself a little surprised. Was he, the Demon Lord, going to be capering around in the woods with his co-lieutenant? Well, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Other than his Master, he had found he was completely starved of a conversational partner. If Zant was inviting him to ramble, he found himself hesitant to deny the opportunity. He took one step forward, before disappearing into shards again, and reappeared at the edge of the river, craning his head to look up at the towering man before him. Zant stood unmoving, but his eyes met his, unblinkingly as he waited for him to speak. This was when the nature of their dynamic became abundantly clear to Ghirahim. All had fallen into place; Ghirahim adored an audience, and Zant was fascinated to hear him speak. At least, unless the right bump or prod coaxed him into a strange monologue of his own… Well, by all accounts, it could have been worse. Ghirahim hummed and tipped his chin with a barely contained swagger as he strutted past him and toward the edge of the cliff. “Right, then. Let me take a look around and jog my memory…”

They spent roughly an hour wading through the shrubbery, each vaguely noting the ruins of landmarks long past. An abandoned clearing, lost sanctuaries, and decayed strongholds peppered the landscape, their traces clearly present though thousands of years apart. Both had been ripped to this Hyrule rather abruptly, and neither had yet considered the actual nature of this world. Where had they been brought, and how long had it been since they left their own legacies? Though they exchanged stories, neither disclosed the ponderings that haunted their minds. Such thoughts were no longer of any importance — they had each been given their second chance at their original goal, and faced their most favorable positions yet. Complaining would be an insult to their Master, which they were both reluctant to do.

Still, time crawled on, even as the two found surprisingly more fond company in one another than they each had expected. Sunlight hardly crept between the leaves above anymore. Twilight had finally fallen, casting the forest floor in a violet hue. They arrived at a clearing, and the man came to a halt. His shoulders rose and dropped again with a deep sigh. Ghirahim assumed he must feel in his element as the Twilight King, standing under the night sky at the crown of dusk. When Zant looked back to him, the complex markings on his face glowed far brighter than ever before. A smile crept onto the strange man’s face, and he turned to him with his hand extended.

"... I thank you for escorting me. Night is falling. I do believe I am capable of taking us back now, before they suspect us."

Ghirahim stepped back, away from the hand that was about to lay on his shoulder. "I say, Zant, I don't think there'd be any harm in strolling around a little longer… How about we drop by elsewhere before heading back to the keep?"

Ghirahim hardly believed his own words, but against all odds, he found he was enjoying Zant’s company. He was annoying, impulsive, and perhaps a touch immature, certainly, but he appeared to be a good listener. And, well, if he could admit, the man’s antics were just the slightest bit interesting to watch. If they were to return now, he would only spend the rest of the night bored out of his mind, waiting sleeplessly until the first light of morning. He was going to stretch this out as long as he could.

An uncharacteristic glimmer appeared in Zant's eyes. The slits on the corners of his mouth made it nearly impossible to tell whether he was truly smiling, though the squinting of his eyes gave him away. "Ah, well… If you have anything in mind?"

"We could go see Lake Hylia. I reckon it looks stunning in the moonlight."

"That would be intriguing, indeed! I have only ever seen it frozen."

Ghirahim raised the ridge of his brow. "Frozen?"

"Yes! I froze the entire lake during my attempt to conquer. It nearly wiped out half of the Zora's forces,” Zant gleefully proclaimed, spoken with the same cadence one would when describing a pleasant outing.

Ghirahim stared at him. After spending a shred of an evening in relatively lighthearted conversation with him, he had almost forgotten Zant’s cruelty quite matched his own. Perhaps he was worse. "... Now there's an idea. You ought to bring that one to the plotting table next time we plan our next assault." Conveniently for both of them, he didn’t mind in the slightest.

Zant simply giggled in return, and held out his hand. A request and invitation, all at once, as though asking him for a dance.

Well, perhaps he could hold off on trying to drown him in the lake until some other day…

#madman's rambling #beararts #ghirahim #tp zant #zant #ghirazant #bearwrites #NEW TAG!? maybe i'll write more...#hyrule warriors #tftk

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