Link has to get rid of Dark Link before anybody finds out that he actually exists, but why is Dark Link so laid back about the whole thing? Doesn't he care about being destroyed?
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The more Link investigated, the less hope he had of finding an answer without having to go out and look for one. His books made very few mentions about shadow people. Mainly, they spoke of them as empty vessels for the will of those who summoned them. The same way as he remembered Dark being during that first time they met at the temple of water.
Link set down the book he had been reading, and stretched. In front of him, lying on the floor in front of the heart was Dark, half dozing off and half watching the fire. Link knew it because if he relaxed and let their thoughts flow along with each other, he could see the blurry image of the fire as seen from Dark's eyes. It faded as sleep lulled him.
"Are you sure you don't want a bed for yourself?" asked Link, quietly.
"Yeah," said Dark, stretching like a cat and rolling on the floor to look up at him. "I'm fine like this. I don't think I'll ever get used to those bed things."
Link scoffed a laugh. "I'll get you a mattress so you can at least try that. If you don't like it, we'll just get rid of it," he said.
Dark shrugged, letting him know that he was fine with whatever he wanted to do.
"Just ask the question already. It's driving you insane," said Dark, rolling to turn his back on Link and stare at the fire again.
"Sorry. I just...I want to know...," whispered Link.
"That's not a question, blondie," said Dark, still unwilling to look back at him.
Link huffed. Dark was being difficult on purpose, hoping that Link would be deterred by his own shyness.
"Were you an empty vessel, like it says on those books?" finally asked Link, silently grateful that he hadn't had to look at Dark's red eyes while asking the question.
Dark hummed, drumming his fingers against the old wooden floor. "I think I was, yeah. When Ganondorf summoned me, that's what he wanted. An empty copy that would have all of you abilities and none of your whole being-an-actual-person thing."
"So he made you?" asked Link, disappointed for a reason he didn't fully understand.
"He did. I mean, he tore away a piece of your shadow and used your reflection at the temple of water to complete me, so yeah. He made me by using pieces of you I guess."
Link nodded absentmindedly, his eyes gazing at the dark night sky outside. 'At least something good came out of that,' he thought.
"I heard that," called Dark from the floor, and Link knew he was smirking in self satisfaction.
"I'm going to sleep," announced Link, standing up from the makeshift couch he had been reading at. "I left some covers and pillows next to the door in case you want some."
"Oh, aren't you thoughtful?" said Dark, his voice full of sarcasm.
Link grunted in exasperation and went upstairs to sleep.
Dark stayed on the floor in front of the fire. He liked to see the flames and to feel the heat against his skin. He stayed there until he felt Link's consciousness drifting into sleep, and only then did he relax. He kept his memories of the time under Ganondorf's control as separate as possible from Link's side of their mind bond. Most of the time, he didn't have to make too much of an effort, considering how much he liked to block that time away from his mind. The memories were just...there. Stored into him. Because back then, that was what he had done. He saw, and memorized, and learned. He had to. Ganondorf had been decided to make something that would kill the hero, and he wasn't going to have his creation be defeated simply because it couldn't remember a move that the hero had made five seconds ago.
So he remembered standing in front of Ganondorf's mirror, watching the hero's every move. Learning. Watching him fighting, running, sleeping...Meeting Sheik. And he had memorized it all. Every change in Link's expressions. When he felt tired, or sad, or when he could no longer go on, his eyes full of despair as he looked at the barren earth that was Hyrule.
And yet...
If Dark closed his eyes, he could still see himself as he was back then, in the mirror room at Ganondorf's castle. Cold and dark. The formless shadows around him whispering of things he did not care for, envious of his new physical body.
Ganondorf came in to look at him from time to time, to make sure the Hero was losing. Dark remembered the last time he had spoken to him.
"Where is he now? What was that noise from Death Mountain?" he asked.
"He has set the Fire Sage free," answered Dark, without taking his eyes off from the mirror, where the hero was fast asleep on a hidden corner of the mountain.
"Hmph...Look at me," ordered Ganondorf, and Dark Link almost hesitated to take his eyes off the hero. Almost.
He looked up at his master, who examined him up and down.
"You don't sound enough like him. You don't even look enough like him," he had said, pulling at Dark's long black hair that fell down to his back. He grabbed Dark's face to look at him closer, and found him lacking. "I'll have you dress up as him and wait for him at the Water Temple. Come with me."
Dark blinked, which he didn't do often, but was starting to enjoy.
"I should have taken more of his shadow. I should have taken all of it," he said, leading him to a different room. "The similarity is barely superficial...,"
He followed Ganondorf through the castle, to a room where servants had left a copy of the hero's clothes made in black fabric. They cut his hair short at the back so it would fit in the black cap. Ganondorf saw the locks fall to the floor, and passed his hand through the hair that was left. Against Dark's icy skin, his hand felt burning hot.
"If I had taken all his shadow, even your skin would be hot," said Ganondorf. His breath, so close to Dark's face, felt strange and uncomfortable.
He had almost felt something like relief when Ganondorf had torn off his clothes to look at him completely. Until he felt his hands on his skin.
Ganondorf had taken him on a bed, with soft sheets that smelled of fresh cotton, and then beaten him when he wouldn't cry.
But he didn't know how to cry.
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This is...quite possibly the most difficult chapter I've ever written in any of my stories...
