Owned

Chapter Fourteen: Faltering

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Didn't turn out quite how I wanted it to, but here it is.

UPDATE: This is no longer "Bonus 3". I am moving it so it's earlier in the story and have changed the title so that it is just another chapter - Chapter Fourteen. Enjoy!

"Master Link, please, you're not of a safe mental state. My creator insisted that I keep an eye on your mental welfare."

Link let out a frustrated, pained scream and unbuckled the belt with the scabbard, throwing it down the hallway so it slid and bumped against the door in. Fate's form dissipated with an irritated groan, and the Hero fled immediately.

She wasn't helping. She kept reminding him. 'My creator' this and 'Lord Ghirahim' that. It was driving him insane.

She didn't seem to realize that mentioning him really wasn't helping with his 'mental welfare' - not at all. Because every single time he heard that name, or had to recall who her creator was, he remembered the moment he had failed and lost the only man he had ever loved, would ever love.

Link slammed another door into the wall, splintering it. The room had remained how he left it. The organ was turned away from the exit, and that back door was left ajar. He wasn't surprised when he saw scorch marks around that entryway that meant the fire had arrived there, but before he could observe much else his vision blurred with tears.

He didn't want to cry. He wanted to stab something - or rather, someone. That was what he wanted to do. For a brief moment, anyway - because despite what she had done, he didn't think he could ever bring himself to kill Zelda.

She didn't know.

She did know.

But remember how sad and scared she looked when you confronted her afterwards?

I don't care - she was a ruthless killer not five minutes before.

You're a killer. You've killed hundreds of monsters without remorse. You've destroyed lives without a second thought.

He staggered in his steps, nearly falling down the staircase and instead hopping down to sit in the corner. He drew his knees to his chest and shut his eyes, trying to ward off his tears, trying to even his breath.

"I miss you."

It was just three words, but it drove him over the edge, forcing sobbed screams out from his lips. He tried to muffle them by burying his face into his knees, but his own accusations against himself rung loudly in his mind - like the bell he had rung so long ago, stating clearly who he belonged to.

"Why did you leave?!"

There was more force behind these words, but there was no true strength. For a moment he thought he caught glimpse of movement above him, a flash of white in the dark room, and he could almost see the glint of brown eyes, but it was gone as soon as it happened, and he sobbed harder, his voice just as raw as his emotions.

"I didn't care. I didn't care if you used your final form! I didn't care what it symbolized!" He dug the cloak from his pocket and clenched it tightly, his hands balled into fists. "As long as you survived..." He bit his lip, tightening his grasp on the crimson fabric. "I'm sorry. I failed you."

He cursed, shaking his head violently. "I wasn't paying enough attention. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been stupid!"

It's my fault.

He tried in vain to dry his tears - they kept spilling, dripping onto Ghirahim's cloak. Link lifted his hand to the earring that he had put in barely two days ago, running his fingers over the shape even though he had long since memorized it. It was his new habit. He fiddled with the earring almost constantly, and now was no exception.

Tired, and running out of tears to shed, plagued with his guilt, he huddled closer to the wall of the staircase and hugged the cloak to his chest, shutting his eyes.

I'm sorry.