Owned

Chapter One: Capture

Link pranced about the battlefield almost as elegantly as Fi, seeming to warp place to place, destroying every last creature he saw. Proxi's voice rang in his ear, spouting information as to the status of the Hyrulean keeps and various commanders spread about. He listened carefully, and somehow still managed to focus on the struggling enemy keep he was in.

He was the only Hylian soldier in this keep at the moment, having left the ones who had followed him with a squad of dancing Bokoblin archers. The keep boss appeared in a flash, and with a few quick strokes of the Master Sword it had fallen into a cloud of purple dust. The remainder of his enemies vanished and he paused to take a breather when the Hylian keep guards appeared, checking his map for the locations of his allies and for the route to the next keep.

"Link! Look out!" Proxi cried just as the Hero caught a glimpse of Ghirahim in his peripheral vision. His sword was out in an instant and within another the map had vanished into one of his pockets, replaced by his shield.

The demon lord approached with a giddy smirk on his face. "What a surprise to find Hyrule's sole Hero without accompaniment in the keep closest to the enemy base. Someone needs to be a tad more cautious."

Link narrowed his eyes and took a step back. Ghirahim called in a small army of Bokoblins to attack the keep guards as their brawl engaged. The blonde was superior in power but Ghirahim had experience from likely decades of striking down each of his enemies one by one, and thus they seemed evenly matched.

"Speak, Hero," Ghirahim snarled, swiping the Master Sword from his hands and leaving him only to his shield. "I want to hear you beg for mercy!" At the end of his sentence his sword came in a feint to the left and stabbed fiercely into the Hero's right arm, forcing him to drop the shield as well. He snapped his fingers and a row of daggers appeared in front of him, intent on reaching their target.

Link's eyebrows knitted together, but other than that he didn't show a single hint of emotion. No fear, no discomfort - not that the demon expected any of it. He knew how to make the Hero uncomfortable. He had done it countless times back in his own era, with the Sky Child.

The only question Ghirahim had in his mind was whether the tongue or words would be most efficient.

He sent one of three daggers Link's way, and on instinct he raised his already injured right arm to guard his chest. Thus, the tiny weapon buried itself hilt-deep in the Hero's arm. Ghirahim took delight in the sheer pain on his face.

"Don't pull it out, Linky," the sword spirit teased. "It will only bleed more, and I don't want anything to do with you if you're unconscious."

The Hero simply snarled in response. His vivid blue gaze kept turning to the sword on the ground, then the shield, to Ghirahim, then back again - as though he was trying to decide which to lunge for first.

Ghirahim took a few steps closer, plucking one of his knives from midair. Link took a few steps back as the demon approached, slightly worried as to what he was plotting.

Link mentally cursed himself. What would happen now? Would he be taken prisoner and held against his allies, all because he had decided to run ahead to take out the major enemies? It hadn't seemed like a bad tactic at first, but once he had skipped ahead too far...too close to the enemy's base...

His back hit the wall abruptly, causing him to let out a sharp hiss. Ghirahim was too close for comfort - not that he expected any - pressing the flat of his minuscule blade to Link's throat.

The Hero swallowed carefully, his defiant blue gaze locked on Ghirahim's of a deadly brown. The demon leaned in to his ear, and Link felt lips brush against it as he spoke.

"Scared yet?"

Flinching backwards would have both cost him his pride and slammed his head against the wall, so he forced himself to remain still and stare ahead at nothing, his breathing well-paced but a little shaky. The Bokoblins had captured this keep again and had all moved on to the next one, and he couldn't do anything about it. Proxi was well-hidden someplace, probably too terrified to pop back out and maybe help him a little.

Link couldn't resist a flinch, however, when he felt a tongue graze the sensitive skin under his ear.

"You may not know me, Hero, but I know you." The hot breath against his ear sent involuntary shivers up his spine. "I know your weaknesses." The demon brushed a fingertip across Link's lips. "And this is one of them."

The Hylian twitched, so dearly wishing to stab the lithe figure pinning him to the wall, despite knowing he would probably never escape.

The dagger vanished from his throat, but just as abruptly he was flipped around with his face pressed to the wall of the keep. A short, startled noise escaped his lips when, suddenly, his tunic, chainmail, and T-shirt vanished from his body. One of pain soon followed when cold metal dug into his back, scrawling across from left to right.

"Wh-"

"Words?" Ghirahim questioned, pausing. "Were you about to speak? If so, I can stop."

Link growled under his breath, but made no further sound other than those of excruciating pain as the sadist continued to carve into his skin.

When he was done, the Hero's legs shook with the effort of holding him up, and he could feel the blood that trailed down his back. Every breath came with the smallest of whimpers. He pressed his left palm harshly on the wall as he tried to retain his composure, his dignity - rather than let the tears escape from his lashes.

Ghirahim tossed the knife aside and grabbed his shoulder, purring into his ear. "There. You belong to me now. But do as you wish - go back to your allies. I'm sure you'd want to clean up a little, cover up the fact that your freedom's just been taken from you." He plucked the knife from Link's arm. "You can say - well, express - that that's the reason you're so lightheaded."

The demon lightly sucked on the skin behind Link's ear, and the broken Hero let out another whimper, disappointment in himself building up so much he couldn't bear it. The moment he was released, he fell to his shaky knees, pressing his head against the stone wall and allowing his tears to fall.

"What is it?" Ghirahim demanded. "Speak."

Compelled by a sudden force, Link whispered, "What...did you...write?" His eyes flew wide and his left hand covered his mouth.

A soft giggle came from the demon behind him. There was a shift of movement, and Ghirahim's hand wound itself into his hair, pulling his head back sharply, as he replied, "'Owned.'"

His presence vanished, and after a moment Link rose shakily to his feet. He bundled up his clothes and stuck them in a pocket, then struggled to cross towards his sword and shield. He managed to sheath the two, although his arms trembled.

He didn't know what to think of himself as anymore. He wasn't a Hero any longer. He was more like...a slave. A slave to Ganondorf's side.

As he slipped into the creek waters nearby, he stared at the symbol of the Triforce on the back of his hand. He had to give it to someone else. Someone who could keep it safe, but wouldn't be too noticeable in a battlefield. He decided Agitha was the best choice. Plus, the girl could keep secrets that not even a mute hero could.

He cursed aloud as the cold water stung against his back, and decided he didn't seem very mute anymore.